Blackened Spiral Down by Pete Altieri

Yet that was before he saw her in the current state she was in – a gaunt agonized face, coughing day and night - slipping away with the urgency of a glacier moving uphill and an ashtray heaping over with cigarette butts.
                  Now he stood over her while she slept.  He had a large pillow in his hands and knew that it was time to put Miriam out of her misery – and his.  The wheezing and heavy congestion in her lungs was like grating nails across a chalkboard to Carson.  He wanted to end this.  His vows for better or worse certainly didn’t pertain to this torture of watching the woman he loved die a little bit at a time.  He shoved the pillow into her face, and in her emaciated state, she barely put up a fight.  There was a little resistance, yet he pushed harder.  Tears were streaming down his face, and despite his resilience in putting her down, he turned his head to the side, so as not to watch her final death throes - bony arms swinging back and forth to no avail.  It was over in less than two minutes. 
                  Carson shut off the oxygen concentrator and marveled at the quiet.  No hacking or wheezing and no purring of the concentrator.  He then went back to his recliner and watched her for a few minutes, making sure she wasn’t coming back to life.  She looked peaceful – like she was sleeping - and Carson felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest.  Miriam could finally rest, and he finally had quiet.  He looked at the bookcase next to his chair in the living room and picked out a book to read, basking in the silence.
                  The following day Carson realized that he had to do something with Miriam.  He covered her with a blanket but knew before long she would start to smell, and he had to act quickly.  He was afraid to call the police.  Carson had seen enough of the police shows on TV where the husband was always the first one they assumed killed the wife.  That’s when he realized he really hadn’t given it enough thought.  Smothering his wife with a pillow was probably not the smartest thing.  The police would know she didn’t die naturally.  They would likely think he had a girlfriend on the side or was trying to get rid of his wife for insurance money.  It was true that he had a policy for her, as well as one on himself, through his job at Whelan and Whelan.  He knew of course there was no girlfriend.  Carson was nearing retirement age and didn’t need another woman in his life. The thought of it made his head spin.  He also knew that the insurance policy was the furthest thing on his mind right now, but the police would think that way.  It was their job to think of that sort of thing.  There was no way he could call the police.  There would be too many questions.
                  He also realized that today was Saturday and the cleaning woman would be by on Thursday to do her weekly top to bottom treatment of the house.  When Miriam got sick, Carson hired a cleaning lady to come by and clean to take that burden off Miriam and because he did like a clean house.  She also fixed some simple meals that Carson could freeze and re-heat later for himself.  He hired Jessa Carthage, an attractive 25-year-old college student, on a referral from a friend of theirs.  He just enjoyed the company of a vibrant young woman so full of life that provided him a convenient distraction from reality.  The fact she really did a great job cleaning the house top to bottom was a bonus.  Even the beautiful Jessa had her own cross to bear, though to look at her you would never know.  She had grown up with an alcoholic mother who ran out on her and her two younger brothers, leaving them with a father who struggled to make ends meet.
                  Carson knew he had to do something with Miriam.  He decided that getting rid of her was risky business, so Carson decided the best thing to do was to hide her