[ WP ] A freak accident turned a man immortal . Now he tries desperately to replicate the event for someone else , so he wo n't end up alone for eternity .

“... radio, ” a voice breaks into the haze. Jonathan slowly pries one gummed-up eyelid apart from another. His right cheek is cold, his pinky finger feels like it ’ s been slept on, the lights are too damn bright and there ’ s a crick in his neck. 
 
 Oh shit. He ’ s at work. 
 
 Tall, thin, with thick curls of short white hair, a man stands in front of his counter. If the customer were any more impatient, he would be tapping his foot onto the thin grimy carpet, but he stands there, watching the seconds pass as Jonathan gets his face off the glass display case. 
 
 “ I ’ m sorry, welcome to Radio Shack, how may I help you? ” Jonathan rubs at the spot where his nametag pressed into his chest as he slept. 
 
 “ Do you sell radios? ” 
 
 “ Uh, ” says Jonathan, “ yeah. They ’ re over there on the back shelf. ” 
 
 “ No, ” the customer says, leaning over the counter, face drawing near Jonathan, “ radios. With the tubes. ” 
 
 “ This is Radioshack, ” Jonathan says. Old people are weird. It ’ s like that time that grandma came in looking for something to connect the show to her phone. That ’ s not a thing, grandma. That ’ s never been a thing. 
 
 “ Yes. Do you have radios with the tubes? ” 
 
 The customer ’ s hands curl into fists, the wrinkles on his skin stretch out and Jonathan can see where the still-smooth patches are on the back of his hands. 
 
 “ We don ’ t, ” Jonathan says, “ we don ’ t have them here. You might want to try an antique store or something. ” 
 
 “ I ’ ve tried them, ” the customer says, voice raising and cracking, “ I ’ ve tried them, and tried them, and tried them, but they ’ re all wrong. They ’ re not the same. They don ’ t look the same. ” The customer ’ s hands tremble, he begins to sway, head drooping towards the countertop and Jonathan starts reaching for the mace that he knows Stacy from the afternoon shift keeps under the notebooks in case of creeps. 
 
 “ Tried, sir? ” Got ta get him to focus on something else. Got ta have the element of surprise. Got ta get'em when they're not expecting it. 
 
 “ I ’ ve tried everything. They ’ re not the same. It doesn ’ t work. I can ’ t find one, I ’ ve been looking, you don ’ t know how long I ’ ve been looking. I just need it to work. Someone. Anyone. Anything. ” 
 
 The customer slowly raises his head, looks Jonathan in the eye, then lunges forward to grab him by the collar of his red polo shirt. 
 
 As Jonathan sprays mace into his face, the old man with the terrified eyes whispers, “ Kill me. ” 
 
 “ Please. ”
