The Ballad of Reading Gaol

What happened to me? He pondered. It wasn’t a dream. His chamber, an ordinary human bedroom, only slightly smaller than normal, lay quietly within its four familiar walls. Above the table, where some fabric samples were strewn haphazardly—Samsa was a traveling salesman—hung the picture he had recently cut out of an illustrated magazine and put it in a beautiful gilt frame. The picture represented a lady in a fur hat and fur scarf, sitting erect and extending towards the viewer a huge fur muff, in which her entire arm was lost from the elbow down.