Мор - ученик смерти

           Butasparkinhissoultoldhimthatherewassomethingweirdandfascinatingandnotentirelyhorrible,andthatifheletthismomentgohe’dspendtherestofhisliferegrettingit.Andherememberedthehumiliationsoftheday,andthelongwalkbackhome....

           ’Er,’hebegan,’Idon’thavetodietogetthejob,doI?’

           BEINGDEADISNOTCOMPULSORY.

           ’And...thebones...?’

           NOTIFYOUDON’TWANTTO.

           Mortbreathedoutagain.Ithadbeenstartingtopreyonhismind.

           ’Iffathersaysit’sallright,’hesaid.

           TheylookedatLezek,whowasscratchinghisbeard.

           ’Howdoyoufeelaboutthis,Mort?’hesaid,withthebrittlebrightnessofafevervictim.’It’snoteveryone’sideaofanoccupation.It’snotwhatIhadinmind,Iadmit.Buttheydosaythatundertakingisanhonouredprofession.It’syourchoice.’

           ’Undertaking?’saidMort.Deathnodded,andraisedhisfingertohislipsinaconspiratorialgesture.

           ’It’sinteresting,’saidMortslowly.’IthinkI’dliketotryit.’

           ’Wheredidyousayyourbusinesswas?’saidLezek.’Isitfar?’