I parked in an ordinary parking space on an ordinary day. Next to the car was a raised gravel area with a sad, wintry bush and some dried leaves. And what appeared to be a rag. I didn't think much about it, but simply left the vehicle to complete my business.
When I returned, I took a closer look at the rag. Not for any great reason, or because it was remarkable at first glance, but because my back has been stiff so it took a little longer than usual to sit down, and I had to look at something.
The rag was not a rag. It was a corset. A black corset, inside out, with stiff stays and laces, just sitting in the parking lot.
I found myself contemplating the erstwhile owner of the limp corset. Was she a dominatrix type, who carries around a spare corset the way some people carry around a spare bra, just in case of emergency, who was not careful about how she opened the door of her car? Was she a normal sort of girl embarrassed about owning such a thing, who found a need (perhaps in a parental visit) to quickly discard the item? Was she out on a date and found the bank parking lot ideal shelter for 'adult activities'?
I mean, really, who loses a CORSET? The things are expensive!