Sam wondered how people would see him today. Would they see the real him?
Sam Grieg woke up one morning to find he had not been turned into a beetle. This had happened to him before: fourteen thousand, six hundred and ten times in a row, to be exact. Every morning, the same un-metamorphosed self. It was starting to make his back ache. The disproportionate weight of his constancy made it almost impossible to get out of bed. He struggled, on thin little legs, to upright himself, trying not to look at the trusty sag of his un-segmented belly.
Sam wondered how people would see him today. Would they see the real him? Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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