Today, I had a sudden vision. I foresaw my own death. It was nothing flashy, or dull. It goes like this:

I'm 40, maybe 50 years old. It's morning and I'm reading the paper while eating my breakfast, a cup of coffee and a bagel or something of the sort. I'm wearing a white shirt and a tie and I have a little beard; I'm going to work soon at an office, working for the man but still somewhat successful. My two kids (both boys, maybe around 8 and 10) have just been sent off to school.

My wife is doing the dishes from the boys' breakfast. She is quite pretty, if a bit ordinary-looking, and she has deep lines in her face—not of age so much as ten years of cooking and cleaning for our family. I suspect nothing as she sneaks up to me from behind. With all the pent up anger from our long normal-on-the-outside relationship, she jams a fork into the side of my neck. My head falls forward as the blood soaks my shirt and newspaper. She wipes of her hands, a contemptuous look on her face, grabs her purse and leaves.

So how do you guys die?