Beads

A single strand of shapely plastic releases towards its recipient from on high. In the span of a moment, its trajectory carries so much power, yet so little worth. Satisfied donors relinquish their gifts to the wind, where they shimmer through the night to meet their eager target. The impact resounds in a swift, gentle clattering of plastic on flesh and neighboring beads. The adorned thrusts her fists higher and a triumphant scream bubbles its way from the back of her throat. Deep within, exhilarating explosions of feeling overtake her in summary of the simple interaction. Warmth radiates from her chest and metamorphosizes into screams for more. 

Chosen. Wanted. Worthy.

Tsunamis of emotion grapple her ravenous form in repeated offenses until the weight of the simulated love tokens begin bearing their consequence on her neck. Having collected every novel trinket tossed in her vicinity, her glazed eyes glance as a lesser, previously collected bead glints in a scintillating arc towards her, yet misses its mark. 

Below her feet, it takes its place among all the other misfits whose value was deemed unworthy to grace the body of a greedy parade-goer. And there they will rot in shameful exile, their pulsating potential negated and reduced to rubbish on the streets of Mardi Gras in New Orleans, Louisiana.