Word count: Far too many
Note: I've changed the source material a bit. No giant insects here, just titchy, tiny regular-sized beetles.
As Will Stanton awoke one morning from uneasy dreams, he found himself transformed into a beetle.
He reacted to the situation with surprising equanimity. After all, Farmer Dawson had warned him. Perhaps this sort of thing happened to everyone on their eleventh birthdays, like a sort of test.
He crawled out of the empty sack of his pyjamas, and descended the vertiginous slopes of his bed, and then the stairs. No-one else was up, which was odd, but perhaps just as well. Someone was bound to stand on him. It was a hazard of a belonging to large family.
Downstairs, his presents were laid out. What was the use of having six arms, he thought, if none of them could cope with wrapping paper?
Eventually, he heard voices outside. "Where is that dratted boy?" a man said. "What's the use of stage-managing that first meeting, if he doesn't turn up?"
"My jaw aches from looking enigmatically wise," said a lady.
The locked door swung open, and Will could not get away in time. The shoe descended.
"That's odd," he thought some time later, smeared on the man's sole. Not only was he a beetle, it seemed that he was also an immortal beetle.
Warning: Scientific inaccuracy alert!
Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.
Or, rather, lay. Some millennia after the bypass fiasco, the unregarded yellow sun finally decided to stand up for itself, and exploded.
Will had not yet decided if this was a Good Thing.
All life had been annihilated, which was not so good, but was certainly a setback in the Dark's attempts to enslave mankind. Plus, the supernova was shiny, a nice metaphor for the triumph of the Light.
Will did miss his body, though. And chocolate.
Note: Yes, I know our sun is not ever going to go supernova, but why spoil a good story?