I'm not 100% certain about this one, which strikes a balance between too vague and too specific, and might not be as arresting as the previous challenges.  It leaves the field a bit wider open, and presents less opportunities for mindless gore than before, though there are certainly interesting places to take it.  But in the spirit of doing things differently every time, I'm going to go with it anyhow.

Based on the sentence below, write a story of anywhere between 500-5000 words.  Genre, etc. are wide open. Using the sentence in the story itself is a plus, but not necessary.  Meaningless bonus points are added if it's the first sentence:

"As the door to the ice cream parlor burst open, I briefly considered the naked intern on the table in front of me and guessed that the agreement was probably off."

As before, the best five submissions (+1 if something's too cool to leave out) will be published here at Looking for Strange, with attribution and links to your website if you'd like.  I now have the technology to include images as well, for any artistically-minded contributors!

Submissions are due 5/1/2010, and can be sent to me at emmy (at) elepent (dot) com.  All submissions remain the property of the creators.

Looking forward to this round!

Okay, so here's another version of the story that's been posted at my other blogs:  while it's fun to post my writing where one or two people might be moved to look at it, Looking for Strange has, generally, been pretty sterile and not all that special as far as writers' websites go.  So I'm going to try to make it more special.  The writing challenges and occasional inclusion of others' work is just the beginning, ha-HA! 

Basically, I've got three blogs at the moment:  a fiction blog, an automotive-writing blog, and a general life-blog.  To focus my efforts a bit better (and to make things more personal in the process) I'm killing off the life-blog and letting more of me come through in the other two.

What that means is that Looking for Strange is going to expand a little.  The fiction will still be here, but you're also going to find the "club reports" that I'm in the habit of making as I wander around the country visiting goth clubs and hearing new music, and perhaps some of the more interesting places that I visit.  Oh, you didn't know I spent the better part of the last two years living in a motorhome and wandering around the U.S.?  Well, there'll be more about that as well; I'm not in the RV at the moment, but I do tend to get around.  Sometimes I might even blog about my writing process, or do book reviews and movie reviews.  Or whatever.  What you're going to see here, in addition to the fiction, is more of the chronicle of my own personal search for strange.  I hope you'll come along for the ride.

It was hardly a professional job, but the Holden muffler that Coquette was wearing kept the Alfa's sonorous bawl down enough that she and Dobie could talk.  This was a mixed blessing; the lack of space in the Alfa's cockpit made things rather intimate, and there was a good deal more heat soaking through the floorboards from the engine than was comfortable, especially with the desert sun beating down on their heads.  Lexi refrained from snapping at Dobie, though; there was wonderful-smelling outdoorsiness and motion and a delightful car to be enjoyed, after all.  Before they reached the next town, the heat was unbearable, so Lexi stripped down to shorts and a bikini top, and the wind over her body cheered her up immensely.  Her feet, however, were still roasting.  She kept her sneakers on because the Alfa's metal pedals were liable to scald her feet otherwise.

On the way through Bread, they passed a news van with a garish red and yellow logo on the side.  The van followed them for a while and a woman who looked like an on-camera personality waved at them.

"I think she wants me to stop," Lexi said.

"That's Gail LaMorrison," Dobie said.

"Is she famous?"

"She's reasonably well-known.  Respectable.  Like Barbara Walters twenty years ago, perhaps."

"Well, I don't have time to stop."  Lexi smiled at Gail and her crew, then put her foot down and put Coquette in front of them as they sped through the tangle of overpasses that marked the center of Bread.