Tommy stood softly, comfortably curled up on the high red armchair, where he had taken an afternoon nap…And as if he was enjoying it, sunk in that delicious softness, something that made his moustache tremble for emotion and contentment. There was no one at home, neither the dark faced woman nor her terrible little girl, nor that very big man , who came every now and then to visit them. Ah, that there, that very big one, with his big belly and his big ass ( butt), he always chased Tommy from the armchair to sit he on it. Tommy was still half asleep, snoring with pleasure, when his hair, indeed every hair of his thick and soft fur had stood up, stiff as if they had become of iron. He, Tommy, started to feel his skin pulled up by each of the hair in (of) his fur, which seemed suddenly become , each of them, metal needles , stuck in his skin, in his flesh. It was certainly not a pleasant feeling. Tommy craned his neck, and shook his head and his body vigorously, trying to take that torment away from him, from his body. When he tried to get up, his legs started to whisk, he couldn’t put his feet down. Meanwhile his neck was stretching immensurable, his ears too were stretching more and more, as if they were pulled by an invisible force to which he could not oppose. Poor Tommy no longer knew where he had his head, where it had gone. His tail had started to twist, whistling like it had become a rod, a whip to lash a beast. Then Tommy felt his tail which, as it continued to move wildly, was detached from his body with a sharp blow, as if it had been cut with a cleaver. Soon after his tail cut, detached from his body, appeared, moving all in jerks, very close to Tommy’s snout. His cut tail wagged on his snout, and it hit him on his back too, as if it were a whip. After the tail, the first to detach from Tommy’s body were his ears, which had stretched immeasurably, as if they had been pulled up with great strength. His ears, detached from his head, whirled before ( in front of) the cat’s eyes barred by terror, becoming larger and larger. Then they knotted , almost assuming the appearance of a butterfly, a big butterfly with hairy wings. As his ears whirled in front of his terrified eyes, becoming larger and larger, and then they knotted into an almost butterfly like appearance, Tommy’s body had begun to shrink, and as it shrank, it made a crunch: CRAC-CRAC-CRIC-CROC. At that crunch Tommy squeezed his teeth, he squinted his eyes and lowered his head, placing it crouched on the seat of the armchair. His head, now devoid of ears, had not shrink, unlike his body, without tail and ears, which, kept on shrinking, had now become tiny. He, Tommy, even if all upset, and even terrified, all trembling , even he was not able to realize ( to understand) what was happening to him, ( he) still kept his feeling , and his thinking too of a cat, until his body, become tiny, detached from his head, and went to cling to his ears, which had become large hairy wings.
Tommy’s head fell to the ground and from that moment he didn’t feel, he didn’t think like a cat anymore. He didn’t know what had happened to him. He felt he was alive, but he didn’t know who, what he was. The last cat thought he had had, just an instant before his head fell on the ground, had been for his great friend Lucy. Who knows what Lucy will say when she comes home. Will she recognize me? he had wondered.
That kind of big butterfly, very ungainly, indeed rather monstrous, into which Tommy had turned, had difficulty in flying. That kind of butterfly was not at all able to fly high, as butterflies do with great lightness, easily . perhaps because its wings were too heavy, compared to the rest of the (its) body, which instead was tiny and similar, but not the same as that of butterflies. Instead of being composed, in addition of the head, of two segments, the thorax and the abdomen, as in butterflies, it was made of a single segment ( piece), rather tiny , that one did not understand how it could support ( withstand) the attachment of the wings , which were immeasurably big and hairy.
When that strange being tried to fly, it was only able to fly low, a few centimeters above the ground. When it tried to fly higher its big, heavy wings flapped painfully and that strange animal fell to the ground. Its oversized wings were hairy and dark, as Tommy’s fur. But he, the cat called Tommy, no longer exited quite. That is, the almost monstrous butterfly , into which the cat had turned, did not at all remember to have been a cat…in a (its) past life.
If Lucy, Tommy’s great friend had come back home and had seen that strange, grotesque animal, which , despite having wings, was not a butterfly, but not even a bird, she would certainly be frightened. And how could she recognize in that ungainly , indeed very ugly, animal ( being) her beloved cat, which was so much pretty? And if, by chance___it could happen___she had felt (sensed) that her loved , and very pretty, Tommy had turned into that horrible…beast, she would certainly be desperate.
It was evening. A cold wind was blowing. Lucy was walking home. Who knows why, she was thinking of that favor, which was in the showcase cabinet , in the living room. That favor had the shape of a bag which, instead of being closed with a bow, ended at the top with butterfly wings. She, Lucy, sometimes happened to stare at those paper wings , which remembered her so much the wings of a butterfly, that she seemed to see them fly up under her eyes., those paper wings.
As Lucy came near home, that strange animal into which Tommy had turned , was becoming something else. The wings of that monstrous butterfly, which was not a butterfly, had begun to shrink, to change. Now they were no longer hairy, no longer dark. We could say they were changing at every step Lucy took , walking home. So when Lucy came into the house, even before she started about looking for Tommy, that grotesque being ( animal), with huge butterfly wings, had morphed into a white, stiff-winged butterfly that looked like they, the wings, had been cut out of paper. And that small butterfly , with wings that looked like of paper, was able of flying very high. As soon as Lucy had opened the window of the room where now it was, that small white butterfly would fly out, perhaps without Lucy even noticing it.