So Gregor did not go into the room, but leant against the inside of
the other door which was still held bolted in place. In this way
only half of his body could be seen, along with his head above it
which he leant over to one side as he peered out at the others.
Meanwhile the day had become much lighter; part of the endless,
grey-black building on the other side of the street - which was a
hospital - could be seen quite clearly with the austere and regular
line of windows piercing its facade; the rain was still
falling, now throwing down large, individual droplets which hit the
ground one at a time. The washing up from breakfast lay on the
table; there was so much of it because, for Gregor's father,
breakfast was the most important meal of the day and he would
stretch it out for several hours as he sat reading a number of
different newspapers. On the wall exactly opposite there was
photograph of Gregor when he was a lieutenant in the army, his sword
in his hand and a carefree smile on his face as he called forth
respect for his uniform and bearing. The door to the entrance hall
was open and as the front door of the flat was also open he could
see onto the landing and the stairs where they began their way down
below.