One morning, when Gregor Samsa woke from troubled dreams, he found himself transformed in his bed into a horrible vermin. He lay on his armour-like back, and if he lifted his head a little he could see his brown belly, slightly domed and divided by arches into stiff sections.

The bedding was hardly able to cover it and seemed ready to slide off any moment. His many legs, pitifully thin compared with the size of the rest of him, waved about helplessly as he looked. “What’s happened to me? ” he thought. It wasn’t a dream.

His room, a proper human room although a little too small, lay peacefully between its four familiar walls.

Six big devils from Japan quickly forgot how to waltz. Big July earthquakes confound zany experimental vow. Foxy parsons quiz and cajole the lovably dim wiki-girl. Have a pick: twenty six letters – no forcing a jumbled quiz! Crazy Fredericka bought many very exquisite opal jewels. Sixty zippers were quickly picked from the woven jute bag.

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