A phone call from a strange woman told me that my almost perfect husband had been with her last night.
She asked me to meet, and I happily went to the appointment.
But...
After being pushed downstairs, I watched blood pour out of the body.
This is my body.
The boy next to me came to me nonchalantly: "You are indeed dead."
Under my questioning, he seemed a little helpless: "It depends on your definition of death."
So, what's going on?
Intention: Just let it go