By Franz Kafka
I hold Kafka close to my heart, because he wrote about a person who turned into a bug (which one I'm not sure - sometimes he seems like a roach, but there are some references to a beetle). This specific story I read before, but I somehow remembered it differently. I wonder how much the different translations had to do with it.
Even though I finished the book ages ago, it took me longer than I expected. It's a tiny book, and at the rate I finished the first few stories, I thought that I'd be done in just a few days, but some of the later stories were very slow. I can't claim to understand what he was trying to say. Maybe he was just going through his depressive moods at the time he wrote them...
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