And then the sky was ripped and shattered and exploding with the fire in the nursery. Everything blazed and everything burned with the light of a thousand suns and he was forced to watch with tears ghosting his eyes and fiery shock pumping through him like flames in his blood.
But most of all everything was Mary, Mary, Mary, Mary. In that moment she existed everywhere in his heart, soul, mind, body, vision, life; she was everywhere and everything and he screamed inside, he screamed a scream wrung from a tortured heart and murdered soul because everything was wrong, wrong, wrong.
He imagined her dragged up, up, up above to the glittering gates in the sky. He imagined her leaning over to her husband and sons below and sprinkling some of Heaven's glitter upon them. And he could feel it, really feel the smattering of golden dust on his shoulders and he turned his face to the sky with eagerness.
Where he realised it was just the ashes of his life floating down around them.