With words of goodbye, Catherine grabbed the last of her stuff and walked with Jeff into her apartment building. Tony and I got in my car and made our way home in the mid-afternoon mid-week DC traffic. Once we arrived, we grabbed the last of our stuff from the trunk, carefully making sure that we didn’t leave anything behind. It was then that I noticed a single black bra strap sitting at the bottom of my trunk.

It probably fell out of Catherine’s backpack. I then quickly stuck it in my purse to give back to her later.

Fast forward to Monday morning. I am making my way to work, like any other day. Embarrassingly late like any other day.

Park car, exit car, lock car, cross street, look down. As my gaze casually turns toward the sidewalk, I notice something. A single black bra strap just sitting there. Dirty, stepped on, hardened. Weird.

I reach into my purse to look for the bra strap I had put away for Catherine, but it is nowhere to be found. Hmm.

This must be it, then. The bizarre moment releases a lone cackle. Five days later? Found on a random sidewalk? This shit is crazy.

I pick it up, dust it off as much as possible, and put it in my purse. For real, this time. I have plans to see Catherine this weekend, so I’ll give it to her then. And I’ll definitely wash it first.