A premonition of death

Does anyone know what a premonition of death is? I've had it myself, and, as a rule, it was always fulfilled. A chilling, lingering melancholy washes over me, a sense of loss, grief. An unbearable inner chill—I can't confuse this feeling with anything.

And then it visited me again. I was overcome by melancholy, I didn't want to talk to anyone, but I clearly knew that someone had to leave this world. The most terrible thing about this feeling was that I felt it so close. I felt it close, and that's why I felt like it was about to happen to one of my relatives or friends. This torment lasted for three days until that very night.

We went to bed. I was on the couch, my husband on the floor—he was hot. We fell asleep peacefully. And then, in the middle of the night, I woke up and looked—it was four in the morning. Completely confused as to what had woken me up at such an hour, I raised my head and began to look around the room (a bad habit, I tell you). Then I saw a man's silhouette, gray and barely distinguishable, walking toward me from the wall. Citing the darkness and my unaccustomed vision, I assumed it was my husband. The silhouette quietly passed me (at the time, for some reason, I didn't notice the lack of sound) and approached the balcony. I thought he was going for a smoke. I told him, "Don't open the balcony, I'll freeze." He stood silently by the balcony and sat at my feet. He sat there for a while and then moved back toward the wall. And then I bothered to look at the place where my husband had been sleeping. And he was sleeping there! The strangest thing was that I didn't even feel afraid. Perhaps, in my sleep, I couldn't comprehend anything.

Two days later, the residents of our building noticed an unpleasant smell of rotting meat. Naturally, no one understood the source of this smell. And it turned out that our neighbor had died three days ago at night. It had been extremely hot, and the body had begun to decompose rapidly. And the room where our neighbor slept was right next to ours.