Мор - ученик смерти

           Thewallsweremovinggently,eventhesoundofhisownvoicewascomingfromalongwayoff,andhedimlyfelthowniceitwouldbetostretchoutonanicestoneslabandsleepforever.

           Death’dbebacksoon,hetoldhimself,feelinghisunprotestingbodybeinghelpedalongthecorridors.Therewasnothingforit,he’dhavetotellDeath.Hewasn’tsuchabadoldstick.Deathwouldhelp;allheneededtodowasexplainthings.Andthenhecouldstopallthisworryingandgotoslee....

           ’Andwhatwasyourpreviousposition?’

           IBEGYOURPARDON?

           ’Whatdidyoudoforaliving?’saidthethinyoungmanbehindthedesk.

           Thefigureoppositehimshifteduneasily.

           IUSHEREDSOULSINTOTHENEXTWORLD.IWASTHEGRAVEOFALLHOPE.IWASTHEULTIMATEREALITY.IWASTHEASSASSINAGAINSTWHOMNOLOCKWOULDHOLD.

           ’Yes,pointtaken,butdoyouhaveanyparticularskills?’

           Deaththoughtaboutit.

           ISUPPOSEACERTAINAMOUNTOFEXPERTISEWITHAGRICULTURALIMPLEMENTS?heventuredafterawhile.

           Theyoungmanshookhisheadfirmly.

           NO?

           ’Thisisacity,Mr—’heglanceddown,andonceagainfeltafaintuneasethathecouldn’tquiteputhisfingeron–’Mr–Mr–Mr,andwe’reabitshortoffields.’

           Helaiddownhispenandgavethekindofsmilethatsuggestedhe’dlearneditfromabook.

           Ankh-Morporkwasn’tadvancedenoughtopossessanemploymentexchange.Peopletookjobsbecausetheirfathersmaderoomforthem,orbecausetheirnaturaltalentfoundanopening,orbyword-of-mouth.