Мор - ученик смерти

           Like,uh—’Albertstruggledforwords–’like,deathshouldcomeexactlyattheendoflife,see,andnotbeforeorafter,andthenodeshavetobeworkedoutsothatthekeyfigures...you’renottakingthisin,areyou?’

           ’Sorry.’

           ’They’vegottobeworkedout,’saidAlbertflatly,’andthenthecorrectliveshavegottobegot.Thehourglasses,youcallthem.TheactualDutyistheeasyjob.’

           ’Canyoudoit?’

           ’No.Canyou?’

           ’No!’

           Albertsuckedreflectivelyathispeppermint.That’sthewholeworldinthegyppo,then,’hesaid.

           ’Look,Ican’tseewhyyou’resoworried.Iexpecthe’sjustgotheldupsomewhere,’saidMort,butitsoundedfeebleeventohim.Itwasn’tasthoughpeoplebuttonholedDeathtotellhimanotherstory,orclappedhimonthebackandsaidthingslike’You’vegottimeforaquickhalfinthere,myoldmate,noneedtorushoffhome’orinvitedhimtomakeupaskittlesteamandcomeoutforaKlatchiantake-awayafterwards,or...ItstruckMortwithsudden,terriblepoignancythatDeathmustbetheloneliestcreatureintheuniverse.InthegreatpartyofCreation,hewasalwaysinthekitchen.

           ’I’msureIdon’tknowwhat’scomeoverthemasterlately,’mumbledAlbert.’Outofthechair,mygirl.Let’shavealookatthesenodes.’

           Theyopenedtheledger.

           Theylookedatitforalongtime.

           ThenMortsaid,’Whatdoallthosesymbolsmean?’

           ’Sodomynonsapiens,’saidAlbertunderhisbreath.

           ’Whatdoesthatmean?’

           ’MeansI’mbuggeredifIknow.’