I do believe today is a day for Continuation.
Just pick up the story from wherever it's been left by the previous contributor and carry on from there. And, you know, maybe try to leave it at an interesting point for the next writer to step into.
Anyway. You might be able to tell that I wrote the opening in a coffee shop. Let's see what you guys can do with it.
Wendy, sitting inside her favorite coffee shop with only an empty mug for company, let her thoughts wander aimlessly as she watched cars and pedestrians pass by the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was a gray, chilly November morning, and an unenthusiastic wind was shuffling fallen leaves around the sidewalk.
She picked up her white mug to take a sip, found only enough coffee to discolour the bottom of the mug, and put it back down again. A quick glance at the other patrons - two stern-looking women in business attire, an elderly man with his nose buried in the local paper, and three heavyset men in construction gear - confirmed that no one had noticed her absent-mindedness.
The music playing softly over the shop's stereo changed to a song she recognized but couldn't name. Wendy considered asking one of the cute baristas what it was but decided against it, not wanting to look foolish. Anything but that in front of those two.
She returned her attention to the windows at the front of the shop just in time to see her ex-husband run by, with two uniformed policemen in hot pursuit.