The Bra Part 1

An interactive story, details at the end. 
For audio click here 

When I left my house this morning, there was a bra on my garden gate. A red bra, not a run-of-the-mill everyday-wear bra, but not an overtly sexy one either. Maybe a first date if you think there might be a possibility of sex bra. What do you do when there is a bra on your front gate? Do you put it in your pocket for safekeeping? Put it in the wheelie bin? Or leave it where it is in case its owner retraces her (or his) steps and comes looking for the bra? I decided to do the latter, thinking that a bra was quite a valuable commodity and the owner would surely come looking for it.  

But despite leaving it where it was, it travelled with me all day; it may not of been in my pocket but it was in my mind. I wondered why it was hanging on my gate, who could possibly have left it there. A lost glove is explainable; the reasons behind a lost jumper or coat don’t take too much thought; a lost shoe is a bit harder, especially where there’s only one. But a lost bra was proving a tough nut to crack.

Had the wearer suddenly had a moment of feminist enlightenment and removed the bra forever, my gate symbolising the freedom she now felt? But that didn’t seem likely in this day and age.

Had it blown off a neighbour’s line in the wind and my gate was the random resting place? Possible but it hadn’t been that windy last night.

Had the wearer been walking home with a lover, so eager were they to consummate the relationship that they were undressing as they went? But wouldn’t that mean there’d be other clothes in the vicinity.

Or more boringly or more depressingly, maybe it had been digging into the wearer during a dull date. As soon as she was free from the tit she was dating she gave freedom to her tits. But I lived in a cul-de-sac, you didn’t get many people passing-by on the way home from dates.

Or maybe it was a message, maybe the person had left the bra for me to find; some kind of cryptic clue to a secret admirer. I loved this idea, but who was likely to secretly admire me?

As the day grew on I began to wonder if it was a message but a more sinister one. What if some gang or Mafioso had left it as a warning; maybe they were going to milk me for money or truss me up.

I was beginning to be suspicious of everyone and everything. Were my mates playing a trick on me? I felt like people were laughing at me, like I was the victim of a practical joke that everyone else is in on. 

When I got home the bra was still there; hanging on the gate; greeting me like a beloved puppy. I decided to take it in to the house. Of course, I had difficulty undoing it, but eventually I got it off and took it inside.

So why was the bra there? Who has put it there and why? Leave your ideas in the comments below and the best one(s) will feature in part two of this story.