Sleep by Kurt Mueller

The doctor asked if I wanted to do it. I didn’t answer. He pushed the needle under her skin and depressed the plunger and she didn’t move, didn’t raise her head to look at me even one last time. I kept my hands on her like I could push her back to life. The doctor threw the needle in the sharps bucket and took off his gloves. She didn’t move. I didn’t move. I should have done it.