When the Christmas tree caught on fire, ornaments exploded like miniature supernovas. Smoke smelling like pine tar billowed away, filling the house with the gases of Creation. Christmas engulfed in the Big Bang, flaming shards curling out through the living room. A brazen, pulsating orange brightness unknown to the melting strings of Christmas lights.
The whole house soon caught the fire of Creation, a beacon of tempestuous life in the snow-covered suburban streets. Plumes of cinders flew upwards like the ecstatic lifting of hands.
The frenzy of life did not die down until in the morning light it finally succumbed.