This is a pretty interesting exercise in seeing styles of communication. I tried it myself with a few different authors:

In the style of Dr. Seuss:

Oh the woman who dared to face Nuri
Was ablaze in a flash, in a fury!
She screamed and she ran with such might
As the homeless women took flight!
They panicked with haste and with speed,
For the exits they headed, with all they could lead!
They feared for their lives, oh what a plight,
As the fire danced high, in the middle of the night!

In the style of H.P. Lovecraft:

In the darkness of night, a macabre scene did unfold. The woman who dared to challenge Nuri was consumed by an infernal flame, her shrieks echoing through the abyss. The other denizens of the street, the homeless women, were thrown into a state of frenzied terror. They fled in a mad dash towards the exits, driven by primal fear of the unknown. Yet, even as they escaped the blaze, the memory of the woman's torment lingered in their minds, a portent of the ancient and malevolent forces that lay beyond the veil of reality.

In the style of William S. Burroughs:

And lo, in the midst of the night, a strange and terrible scene did unfold before our eyes. For there was a woman, wild-eyed and fierce, who had seized hold of Nuri, the madman of the streets. And in an instant, she was ablaze, consumed by a devilish fire that danced and flickered about her frame. And her cries, like the shrieks of a banshee, rent the air as she ran amok, a living inferno in the shadows. The other women of the streets, the homeless and the hopeless, they too were seized with fear, and they fled in every direction, seeking to escape the bedlam and the terror that had befallen them. But there was no solace to be found, no refuge from the madness that had come to claim them all.

In the style of Charles Bukowski:

It was a rough night in the alley, the kind where you can smell the desperation in the air. Suddenly, all hell broke loose, as a woman tackled Nuri, the crazy guy who ranted and raved all night. And then, in a flash, she was on fire, screaming like a wildcat caught in a trap. The other homeless women, who were used to tough times, started to panic and scatter like rats, heading for the exits in all directions. It was a scene straight out of a nightmare, one that you couldn't make up if you tried. But in this neighborhood, anything could happen, and often did.