Kicked.

His life had never been easy but he had never been kicked before that day.

Gregor awoke one morning to find that he had become a soccer ball.

Such a thought had never crossed his mind before, and he struggled to come to terms with his new form. At first, he couldn't move or speak, and he was consumed by a sense of disorientation and confusion. But soon he realized that he could roll around on the ground, propelled by the force of his own roundness. He could see the world from a new perspective, and he found it both exhilarating and terrifying.

As he bounced and rolled across the room, he realized that he was not alone.

Other soccer balls were scattered around him, some of them old and deflated, others shiny and new. He felt a strange kinship with these objects, even as he longed to return to his human form.

Gregor tried to call out for help, but all that came out was a muffled thump as he bounced against the wall. He wondered how he would survive in this new world, where he was no longer a person but a mere object.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the distance, and Gregor's heart leapt with hope. Perhaps someone had come to rescue him from this bizarre fate.

But as the footsteps grew closer, he realized with a sinking feeling that they were not coming to help him. They were coming to play soccer.

Gregor's heart sank as he saw the younger son approach him, loading a leg as if to kick him He braced himself for the impact, but to his surprise, the boy's foot struck him gently, sending him rolling across the room.

At first, Gregor was frightened by the boy's rough play, but as they continued to play together, he began to enjoy himself. He bounced and rolled, trying to evade the boy's kicks and laughing as he narrowly avoided being sent flying out of the window.

It was a strange sensation, being a soccer ball. He had no control over where he went or what he did, but he found that he was enjoying the freedom of movement that came with his new form. He no longer had to worry about the stresses and anxieties of human life.

All he had to do was roll and bounce and have fun.

As the hours passed, the son grew tired and wandered off to find something else to do. Gregor was left alone once again, but he was not afraid. He had discovered a new sense of purpose in his life, and he was content to simply exist as a soccer ball, rolling and bouncing wherever the wind took him.

But as the day turned into night, Gregor began to feel a sense of unease.

He realized that he had no idea how he was going to survive in this new form.

He couldn't eat or drink or sleep.

He was just a ball, and he was at the mercy of the world around him.

As he lay there in the darkness, he thought about his former life as a human being.

He longed to return to that life, but he knew that it was impossible.

He was trapped in this new form, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The hours dragged on, and Gregor grew tired. He rolled over to a corner of the room and nestled himself against the wall. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, but he found that he could not. His mind was racing with thoughts and fears, and he was unable to quiet his racing thoughts.

As the first light of dawn crept into the room, Gregor realized that he had a long road ahead of him. He didn't know what the future held, but he was determined to face it head-on, no matter what form he was in.

But ss the days turned into weeks, Gregor grew more and more frustrated with his new form. He watched as his family went about their lives, seemingly oblivious to his absence. He longed to speak to them, to tell them who he really was, but he was unable to express himself. His family simply saw him as a ball, an object, nothing more.

It was a lonely existence, and Gregor found himself slipping into a deep depression.

He rolled around the room aimlessly, his mind consumed with thoughts of his former life. He missed his job, his friends, his home. He missed being a person.

One evening, as the sun was setting, Gregor's son turned on the television to watch a football match. Gregor watched as the players ran back and forth across the screen, kicking and chasing after a ball that looked just like him.

He felt a strange sense of connection to that ball, knowing that it was just like him, an object that was the center of attention.

As the match progressed, Gregor's son grew more and more excited. He cheered and shouted as the ball was kicked back and forth between the players. Gregor watched as the camera zoomed in on the ball, capturing every movement, every bounce, every kick.

In that moment, Gregor realized that his life was not over. He may have been transformed into a ball, but he still had value. He was still a part of the world, and he could still bring joy to others. He rolled over to his son, who was now completely absorbed in the match. Gregor nudged him gently, and to his surprise, his son turned to look at him.

For the first time since his transformation, Gregor felt seen. His son looked at him with wonder and excitement, and for a moment, Gregor felt like he was truly a part of his family again. It was a small moment, but it gave Gregor hope. He knew that he couldn't go back to his old life, but maybe he could find a new purpose, a new way to exist in this world as a soccer ball. And as he rolled back into the corner of the room, he felt a sense of peace wash over him. He was still alive, and that was all that mattered.

As the days passed, Gregor's ambition grew.

He dreamed of becoming a soccer ball for the Champions League matches, to be kicked by the best players in the world and witnessed by millions of fans. He longed for the thrill of competition, for the rush of adrenaline as he soared through the air.

But one day, his son took him out to play with his friends. The field was not grass, but rough asphalt, and Gregor winced as his leather bounced and scraped against the hard surface. It was a painful experience, and he was humiliated as he was kicked around by children who had no idea how to play football.

Gregor's son tried to protect him, to shield him from the rough play of the other children, but it was no use. Gregor was tossed and turned, kicked and thrown, until he was dizzy and disoriented.

As the game came to an end, a very fat boy took a crooked shot, and Gregor went flying through the air. He landed in the garden of an obnoxious old man who hated children and their noisy games.

The old man sneered as he picked up Gregor and examined him closely. He took a pair of scissors and punctured him, deflating him slowly until he was nothing more than a pile of leather, rubber and air.

And as Gregor lay there, his dreams shattered and his body broken, he realized that he had been foolish to think that he could ever be anything more than a ball. He had been reduced to a mere object, a plaything for others, and in the end, he had been destroyed by their indifference and cruelty.

But even as his world faded to black, Gregor held on to one last thought: that somewhere, somehow, he had made a difference. He had been seen, even if only for a moment, and he had brought joy to someone's life. And that, he knew, was enough.