I’m going with the first prompt, The Metamorphosis. Here I go:
Henry slapped at alarm clock. He missed, knocking it off the night stand on onto the floor. The insistent buzz-buzz-buzz sounded just as annoying half under the bed as it did next to his ear.
He kicked his legs free from the sheets and thumped them to the ground. The clock was just out of reach, but he managed to hit the snooze.
Henry thought about burrowing in the covers again. He shuffled his legs and thumped his feet.
His eyes shot open and peered down at his feet. Not feet. Hooves. Hard, shiny black hooves. He lifted up the leg of his pajamas to thick brown matted fur.
“Damn it. Not today.”
Standing up proved to be a challenge. He fell back in bed twice before catching his balance long enough to make it to his bathroom. The first step onto the tiled bathroom floor went fine. The second sent Henry flat on his ass.
He scrambled to his feet –no, hooves– making a horrible racket. Three attempts and four chipped tiles later, and he was back in room.
“Is everything okay in there?” his mom yelled from the other side of his door. She rattled the doorknob, and Henry couldn’t be more thankful for locking it the night before on a whim.
“I’m fine mom.”
“What was all that noise?”
“Um… Just saw a roach, ma. It almost got away, but I got it.”
He hoped his lie worked. His mom was deathly afraid of bugs. If there was a chance of her see one by coming in here, she’ll avoid his room till she can get an exterminator over.
“Good that you got it,” she said slowly. “Try to keep it down. Your sister’s still sleeping. I’ll be down stairs if you need me.”
No doubt calling the extermination, he thought. “Alright mom.”
He looked around the floor. He found a roll of duct tape half under a mountain of semi-dirty laundry. The real no-longer-wearable dirty laundry he kept next to his door. He unrolled a strip and wrapped his hoof, sticky side out. Once he got in place, he taped the other hoof and attempted the bathroom again. He really needed to go.
He took a tentative step on the tile. Then another. Shhhhlliiick-clunk shhhhlliick-clunk of his taped hooves did the trick. He lifted up the toilet lid, and the alarm clock went off.
He raced over to the night stand only to remember it fell off. He knocked a little further under the bed, but he finally got it.
Laying on the floor, he looked down at his hoofed feet all wrapped in duct tape and chunks of carpet.
I was going to be another one of those days.
The Meta-Hoovesit by S. C. Green is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.