kaolin fire presents :: writing :: fiction

"ChristmasLights.1"

words

Christmas, for the old man, was a time to add to his collection--he never took them down, but every year there was a new string; every year a new pattern; a new color; a new maze of brilliant rejoicing of color.

They thought, some time in August--wouldn't it be a treat to add to his collage? Wouldn't it be a treat to give him just a few more streams of what he so obviously loved?

They hadn't planned so many colors, as the flames licked through plastic and wire and vacuum.