A bad breakup gets a bit badder!
At the edge of her field of view, right next to the microwave, was an empty space in what had just a few hours earlier been a full knife rack. The missing element not being in the cutlery rack drying and certainly not in the dishwasher as she’d only just emptied it that morning. If she'd been just a little more observant when she'd gotten back home earlier that Saturday afternoon, she would have realised that someone else was in the house, and that they were quite possibly armed with one of her own kitchen knives.
Now, lying on the kitchen floor, watching the red flow from the wound in her chest, she could almost sense her life draining from her as surely as the blood itself. The beckoning white light hadn't revealed itself yet, and up until now there hadn't been a playback of her life thus far. All that was left for her was to wait.