- end_line
- 1264
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-28T02:25:21.975Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 1217
- text
- trouser pockets, pushing back the bottom of his long uniform coat, and,
with look of determination, walked towards Gregor. He probably did not
even know himself what he had in mind, but nonetheless lifted his feet
unusually high. Gregor was amazed at the enormous size of the soles of
his boots, but wasted no time with that—he knew full well, right from
the first day of his new life, that his father thought it necessary to
always be extremely strict with him. And so he ran up to his father,
stopped when his father stopped, scurried forwards again when he moved,
even slightly. In this way they went round the room several times
without anything decisive happening, without even giving the impression
of a chase as everything went so slowly. Gregor remained all this time
on the floor, largely because he feared his father might see it as
especially provoking if he fled onto the wall or ceiling. Whatever he
did, Gregor had to admit that he certainly would not be able to keep up
this running about for long, as for each step his father took he had to
carry out countless movements. He became noticeably short of breath,
even in his earlier life his lungs had not been very reliable. Now, as
he lurched about in his efforts to muster all the strength he could for
running he could hardly keep his eyes open; his thoughts became too
slow for him to think of any other way of saving himself than running;
he almost forgot that the walls were there for him to use although,
here, they were concealed behind carefully carved furniture full of
notches and protrusions—then, right beside him, lightly tossed,
something flew down and rolled in front of him. It was an apple; then
another one immediately flew at him; Gregor froze in shock; there was
no longer any point in running as his father had decided to bombard
him. He had filled his pockets with fruit from the bowl on the
sideboard and now, without even taking the time for careful aim, threw
one apple after another. These little, red apples rolled about on the
floor, knocking into each other as if they had electric motors. An
apple thrown without much force glanced against Gregor’s back and slid
off without doing any harm. Another one however, immediately following
it, hit squarely and lodged in his back; Gregor wanted to drag himself
away, as if he could remove the surprising, the incredible pain by
changing his position; but he felt as if nailed to the spot and spread
himself out, all his senses in confusion. The last thing he saw was the
door of his room being pulled open, his sister was screaming, his
mother ran out in front of her in her blouse (as his sister had taken
off some of her clothes after she had fainted to make it easier for her
to breathe), she ran to his father, her skirts unfastened and sliding
one after another to the ground, stumbling over the skirts she pushed
herself to his father, her arms around him, uniting herself with him
totally—now Gregor lost his ability to see anything—her hands behind
his father’s head begging him to spare Gregor’s life.
- title
- Chunk 13