a roach

joseph tann was crawling along a rusty pipe from the first floor kitchen back down the basement. his tuxedo was wrinkled and torn in places. profound sweat was covering his dark muscular yet noticeably tired body marked by signs of exhaustion. a heartburn was visibly bothering him, making him crouch every few steps. finally joseph plopped at his destination – a cardboard box filled with dump stained yellowish books at the far gloomy corner of this dim shabby space. joseph crawled over kafka’s metamorphosis to the familiar spot at the back. he relaxed his antennas. he was ready for his nap.