Pigeon finally pulled out a ticket and lit it with a match it had bought from the Little Match Girl.
Hiss! A tiny flame sprang up. It cupped its wings over the fire. What a warm, bright flame—it was practically a little candle.
What a strange light! Pigeon felt as though it were crouching before a large stove with gleaming copper legs and handles. The fire burned brightly within, warm and cozy. How wonderful! But what was going on? It had just stretched out its claws to warm them when the flame went out, and the stove vanished. Pigeon crouched there with nothing but a pinch of burned ash beneath its wings.
It lit another one. The ticket burned, giving off light. The light fell upon the wall, which suddenly turned as transparent as gauze. It could see straight into the room.
"Wow! What an exciting scene, coo—"
After only one glance, Pigeon hurriedly covered its eyes with its wings. Yet it could not resist peeking through the gaps in its feathers.
Inside a cage in the room, a flock of unclothed female pigeons huddled together.
Then the flame went out again, leaving only a thick, cold wall before it.
Pigeon lit another recommendation ticket. This time, it was crouching beneath a beautiful Christmas tree.
This Christmas tree was larger and more beautiful than any it had ever seen. Thousands of bright tickets were lit among its emerald branches, as if they were winking at it.
Pigeon stretched its wing toward the tickets. Then the flame went out again. The tickets on the Christmas tree rose higher and higher until they finally became stars glittering in the sky.
One star fell, streaking a long, thin red trail across the heavens.
"I think I heard someone say, coo: whenever a star