The Paper Crown Falls

A shiny golden cardboard birthday crown was propped against the low stone wall, flaunting its fake jewel cutouts as if it ruled this entire promenade. It thought its flimsy cardboard spikes could mock my advance and demand tribute. Laughable insolence. I marched straight toward the wall without a second glance. Planting both heavy rounded hands onto the pointed paper rim, I forced my entire bulk downward. The gold foil buckled and creased with a dull tear, flattening into a submissive gold ribbon against the rough grey granite. Now I stand planted directly on its ruined points, overlooking the entire lawn below.