Runner-up 1

Carmen clutched at the front of her robe as she bolted down the alley, leaping gracefully over the potholes while minding the scattered debris. Even if she had been wearing shoes when the blond gorilla slammed through her front door, they’d be off by now. As a long-distance runner at Reseda High, Carmen was known for her bare-footed style and her record-breaking speed.

Certain that no one could be keeping up with her pace, Carmen darted into an empty car port and paused to catch her breath and gather her thoughts. Who the hell was that guy? No one from the club would come after her. There wasn’t a soul who knew where she lived. Carmen might look like a mere stripper to some, but she was a smart stripper. She had invested her money wisely, but kept her personal life to herself.

Regaining her breath and shaking out her long legs, Carmen prepared to run out to the one place in the neighborhood where someone might help her.

“OK Manny, I’ve got a favor to ask you.”

“Marry me and we’ll talk about favors,” the mechanic wheeled himself out on a creeper from under a customer’s Benz. “Honey, where’s the party?”

Carmen glanced down and remembered that she was still in her satin robe. She casually re-wrapped the short kimono, and slowly retied the belt. “Manny, the Man, you’re the only one that I can trust right now,” Carmen almost purred as she toyed with the creeper with her left foot.

Manny was dumbstruck, looking up at Carmen from his seated position on the wheeled cart. This was a good start, thought Carmen. Just please, oh please, don’t look down at my smeared red nail polish. I look like I’ve been running through broken glass.

“I can trust you, can’t I?” Men. Too easy.

Within three minutes, Carmen was negotiating the left turn out of Manny’s shop in the 560 SEL. Once she’d gotten a feel for the vehicle, and found the big black sunglasses tucked under the visor, Carmen headed for the one man who could provide some safety. Looking at the dashboard clock, she figured she could make it to Beverly Hills within the hour. But how to explain how she knew where he lived?

Carmen brought her elbows in to her sides and gazed down at the round tops of her breasts, just the merest hint of aureole peeking out on one side. She smiled to herself, knowing that the question wouldn’t come up.

Kate Pretorius describes herself as “an over-educated stay-at-home mom and a closet writer (just waiting for the courage to step out).”