Zombie Flash Fiction: The Gift

I didn't know what to get grandpa for Christmas this year.  But, now I know.  I'm still really nervous.  I have to calm down.  This is the worst gift ever.  But, he needs it.  He's been in the house for months with grandma.  He just wanders around the house.  I can see him from the loft in the barn.  I can see him through the second bedroom window.  

When I close my eyes, I remember working out in the garden with him.  I remember building that greenhouse out back.  I remember all the Christmases and grandma's turkey dinners.  There are so special many memories that I want to keep.  I have to give him this gift.

Breathe in.  Breathe out. Breath in.  Breath out.  There he is.  Breathe in.  Pause.  Squeeze. BAM!  It's done.  Grandpa has finally gotten the gift of death.  

We couldn't let him wander the house with his body rotting and his intestines hanging out.  But, the tears won't stop.  Merry Christmas.

 Crosshairs graphic by Delapouite, Lorc and Sbed., CC BY 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons