Flash fiction contest results

This was a really interesting experiment!
Did you like the change?



UPDATE: 

Thanks to all of you who entered. It was a terrific round of stories; one of the best in a long while.
I hope you liked it too.


I like Unknown's entry from the start.
Somehow it just captured the zeitgeist.

So, BrianH (revealed in comments) if you'll email me with your mailing address and what you like to read, I'll get a prize in the mail to you.


Thanks again to all of you who took the time to write and post entries, and comment on the results!

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Herweith the results

Kudos for using all three prompts
Kitty

Special recognition for reference to The Wire
Timothy Lowe


Special recognition for innovative use of empties
CraigF
Tess Rook

Special recognition for OUTSTANDING new word
luciferin
travelkat

Shout out for reminder that Corona didn't always mean virus
Colin Smith


Long list
Luralee

I folded the empty bags and put them away.
"...Orchid cactus, Hon, I said when you find an orchid cactus at the grocery store, you bring it home. Not a--" I flapped my hand at the prickly thing on the counter. "--I don't even know what to do with this."

"Eat it? It was in with the lemons."

"You're braver than me. Doesn't even look like food."

"Excuse me?" The prickly thing unrolled, waved a very dingy mob-cap, and took a bottle of Rit dye from her apron pocket. "May I borrow your washing machine?"

Michael Seese

The off-gray three-piece pinstripe, welded to his eternally hollow core, glummed through the door.

"BUZZ!" blared the beleaguered buzzer.

"RED!" flashed the fidgety light.

"Negative!" called out the monitor, counting the days left until infinity. "Next."

Practiced smile plastered to her vacated visage, the pastel pantsuit waved involuntarily to imaginary followers in corporeal form as she lilted through the scanner.

"Another negative!"

"Holy cow, that's a lot of empties. I don't get it. Where are their souls?" asked the minion in red.

"My bad. And that's the last time I make a bulk deal with the Congress," muttered Satan.

Leah Ning

When you spot an orchid cactus at the grocery store, you bring it home. You figure the plant might make you less lonely.
You blink. The cactus on your nightstand has bloomed and its flower is pink. You can’t remember if you like pink.
You blink. The flower is shriveled, the cactus an unhealthy yellow.
You blink. You’re lonely and can’t remember why.
The heap of rotting plants in your garage pricks your memory like cactus spines.
When you spot an orchid cactus at the grocery store, you bring it home. You figure the plant might make you less lonely.

KD James

"Is it my turn to do the laundry, or--"

"DIE!" A shoe hits the faded linoleum.

"What?"

"DIEDIEDIE!!" More splats.

"I think you got it."

"Did you see the size of that thing?!"

I eye the squashed mess. "One might argue it's larger now."

"GAH! It'll haunt my dreams, with all the others. We've gotta move."

"Right. The laundry, is it--"

"YES. But I'll take this turn, the next FIVE, if you do cleanup here."

I fake a shudder, think of my secret stash of roaches, my even more secret Laundromat-phobia, and sigh dramatically. "If you insist."

Finalists
NLiu

Anonymous tipoff. We follow it, watch the schoolkids from our unmarked car.

"Holy cow, that's a lot of Empties," Linda whispers.

She's right. They stare at nothing. Normal kids avoid them.

Night. We return, investigate. Nothing - until the books. Paper shouldn't glow red in the dark.

Linda pokes one. "What are they?"

The light clicks on. We freeze.

Man's in the doorway: frayed cardigan, worrying grin. "People say books take your mind new places. It's no metaphor now."

"That's diabolic!" But... Hogwarts. "Can I--"

Linda's quicker. Pages flash. Her soul vanishes.

He sighs. "They only go to Michigan."

Unknown

“I’m just not sure I’m ready, honey.” I hated having these discussions while we ran.
“Look, when you spot an orchid cactus at the grocery store, you bring it home. Period.”
“Ok.” I raised my hands in defeat. “All I’m saying is we don’t know how to take care of it. Or how big it will grow.”
“Well,” she grunted as she hurdled a rock, “I bet we can figure it out.”
“And you are certain it’s an orchid cactus?” A tree branch forced me to duck.
“Pretty sure. Why?”
I glanced back. “It’s gaining on us.”

Steve Forti

“Electromagnetic pulse. Like in The Matrix. Fries all electronics. Power grid, internet, communications. Everything.” He patted the crate. “And this baby’s a doozy.”

“What’s the target?”

“Jakarta.” He pointed to the map. “This circle here? That’s the effective zone. Everyone there goes dark.”

“Holy cow. That’s a lot of EMP.”

“Ties the record from the Seattle incident in ’23. Thought about topping it, but I respect the classics.”

“True dat. When’s it going off?”

“9am tomorrow. Right on the anniversary.”

“But today’s the 8th.”

“What?”

“We’re flying west. We passed the international date line. It’s 8:59am right now.”

“Oh sh-zzzzzzztttttt……………………”

Jennifer Rand

When you spot an orchid cactus at the grocery store, you bring it home. "If it dies," the directions state, "so will YOU!"
Your superstitious nature warps your senses. Fearing for your life, you strictly adhere to the instructions:
"Five drops of purified water at three second intervals twice daily as the sun rises and sets."
You forgo vacations and social engagements to preserve your life.
But one day you forget, landing you--not surprisingly--in the hospital! Desperate, you call your roommate.
"Marjorie, water my orchid and hurry!"
"You're kidding," she responds. "You know that thing's plastic, right?"

Matt Krizen

Week 1: You give the kids homework and take them on walks. You reorganize your closets.

Week 3: The kids watch TV, argue and fight. You find a website that delivers wine to your door in under an hour.

Week 9: The kids painted the dog. You’re not sure when. You spot an orchid cactus at the grocery store. You bring it home and call it George.

Week 20: The news says it’s safe, but George doesn’t believe them. He’s usually right about such things. You still think about the kids, on the odd occasion when you have no wine.

Help me out here and tell me who you think should take the prize!
And if I've left anyone out, mention that too.