The Push
In half an hour, she would end it.
This had been their bedroom. Now, it was his … she paused. Funny. she thought. There’s no word for the room where people wait for death.
She moved efficiently. Clinically, like a nurse. In truth, that had been her role for some time now.
He’d lingered for months, getting weaker each day. Each day, more dependent on her. Less himself. Bit by bit, his affliction claimed pieces, and then scrapped them.