...a pink bra. It looked about my size and I considered picking it up, but I didn't. I did, a few months back, pick up a glove that replaced a glove I had lost the day before. I wanted to take home a mirror that had been fly-tipped, but it was too heavy. I photographed found hearts around Valentine's Day.
This one is a bit weird. It was at the end of a drive, where the drive met the pavement, in a village. Who takes their bra off at the end of their drive? Or on the pavement? Maybe lockdown has made us loco.
Lockdown has made me intolerant of bras. Man, they hurt! That end of the wire poking in under the arms or on the sternum! OUCH! One day at work my chest felt tight and I thought I had COVID, only to realise that it was the unaccustomed pressure of a bra.
That said, I am wary of going without. Will they get more droopy? There's a joke, man in an underwear department, wants to buy a bra for his wife, sales assistant says, what size, but he doesn't know. She says, like a grapefruit, he says no. Like an apple, he says no. Like a lime? He says no. Well, she says, maybe you can tell me. Have you seen, he asks, a spaniels' ears? I feel like that these days. Yoga tops and sports bras save the day.
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