Rube Goldberg was the first thing that came to my mind. One event, leads to another, which leads to another, and another, so on and so forth, until something, probably completely mundane, finally kills her.
Let’s have a think…
She enters her apartment and places her handbag on the side table. She takes a bottle of perfume from the bag and walk over to the lounge mirror. The bottle is practically empty. She sprays the last of the perfume on her neck, before dropping the empty bottle in wicker bin. She lights a couple of candles on the mantel piece, then heads into her bedroom to get changed.
The handbag, which was place precariously close to the edge, slips and falls off. As it hits the ground, the contents (a purse, lipstick, jewellery) spill everywhere. The bag itself knocks a large ornamental vase over. The vase rolls around the floor and knocks a tall, floor-standing lamp over. As the lamp falls, the ensuing draft blows an old receipt off of the side table and up into the air. It floats over the mantle, catching fire on one of the candles. The burning receipt then floats into a net curtain, which too catches fire.
The lady emerges from the bedroom to see the ensuing chaos. She grabs a towel from the kitchen and attempts to extinguish the now burning net curtain. As she bats at the flames, burning embers of the curtain break away and float around the apartment. One lands on a rug, causing that to catch fire. Another lands in the bin, which burst into flames.
The lady panics. She runs for the door. In the hallway, she slips on her lipstick, falls and cracks her skull open on the edge of the table. She bleeds to death.
Soon after, her husband enters the apartment. Seeing her limp corpse, he kneels beside her and cries. He pulls out his phone and dials 999.
Inside the bin, the flames lick at the empty perfume bottle. It explodes, causing a shard of glass to tear through the wicker and plant itself into the husbands neck.
Phew…