// Death

 The man cautiously opened the door to the dark store, peering inside as he did. He saw a tall, hooded, skeletal figure sitting behind a computer screen, looking up at him from behind his glasses.
 "Am I... in the right place?" The man asked cautiously.
 "Are you looking for death?" The figure asked in return.
 "Yes," the man responded, relaxing slightly.
 "Then you’re in the right place. Now, are you looking to buy death for yourself or as a gift?"
 "Myself," he answered. The figure typed something on his computer.
 "Okay, so how do you want it to happen?"
 "As long as it looks like an accident, and it’s not too painful. And if it’s not too much, try to make sure no one misses me too much." The figure looked at him straight in eyes.
 "No one’s going to miss you."
 "Yes, I know," he said more quietly.
 "Right, well that’ll be twenty dollars then." He pushed some buttons on a cashier and the man saw his fingers were just bone. "Sorry, I can only take cash."
 "That’s fine," the man answered, passing a twenty dollar note over the counter.
 "Good doing business with you, your order should arrive by next Tuesday." The figure stood up from his chair, took off his glasses and picked up the scythe that was leaning against the wall. "I’d better go now, someone else wants to order some death."
 "You’re Death. Why run a business like a person?"
 "Mortals seem so obsessed with the idea of 'making a living'. I thought I’d give it a try. I thought it would feel like living, but I feel more dead than before."
 "That sums it up pretty well," the man answered. "Thanks again."
 "No problem," Death replied and faded away into the wall and the man had forgotten why he was here. He walked back home.

 The next Tuesday the man was driving to work, not paying attention to the car screaming out of the intersection to his right. He saw it only at the last second as the front of the other car came through his window and killed him instantly. No one missed him.