And When Again It's Morning,

All I Can Think Of Is The Emaciated Bodies Of Children On Our Kitchen Table As My Mother Prescribes What The Parent's Can't Give. More Food.

I Guess After Tonight Boots Won't Think The Whole World Is Her Friend," Thought Gregor. She Had To Find Out Sometime, But It Still Made Him Sad.

My Spirit. This Is A New Thought. I'm Not Sure Exactly What It Means, But It Suggests I'm A Fighter. In A Sort Of Brave Way. It's Not As If I'm Never Friendly. Okay, Maybe I Don't Go Around Loving Everybody I Meet, Maybe My Smiles Are Hard To Come By, But I Do Care For Some People.

You Could Do A Lot Worse.

A Light Was On In The Kitchen. His Mother Sat At The Kitchen Table, As Still As A Statue. Her Hands Were Clasped Together, And She Stared Fixatedly At A Small Stain On The Tablecloth. Gregor Remembered Seeing Her That Way So Many Nights After His Dad Had Disappeared. He Didn't Know What To Say. He Didn't Want To Scare Her Or Shock Her Or Ever Give Her Any More Pain. So, He Stepped Into The Light Of The Kitchen And Said The One Thing He Knew She Wanted To Hear Most In The World. "hey, Mom. We're Home.