I served a line of very ordinary customers, who all looked as though they’re in a rush to get somewhere else. The time they spend in a grocery store is irrelevant to them, they just want to get in, buy their food, and get out. But when death wandered in, carrying his scythe, then you know there’s trouble.
“Have a good day!” I said cheerfully, waving another regular away. An elderly woman moved up next, she’s smiling and tottering, her hands shaking fiercely. “How are you?”
Death moved into my line of sight, joining the queue of customers. He had his shopping trolley at the ready. Why did he choose now, of all times? My heart pounded in my throat, announcing that something wasn’t right here. I served one last customer, when Death finally banged his goods on the counter. They ranged from a frying pan to bleach. What surprised me though wasn’t either of these items. It was the fact that he had a skeleton mask from our Halloween range.
“I said I’d meet you after work,” I said, glaring at him. My eyes swivelled over to the mask. I gripped it and swiped it through, before he could change his mind. What was he, insane? Anger flooded through me. Please tell me it wasn’t more of this blending in crap. Death nodded meekly, his bony fingers reaching for the EFTpos machine. “You take credit cards?”
I sighed. Of course we took credit cards. How could we not take credit cards, the large establishment that we were? But Death couldn’t be expected to know that, and in all honesty, I didn’t know why I gave him the time of day.
