Brad Chessum

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Nov, 2023

Stories (4)

4 Stories

49 karma pts

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“Genvägar är Senvägar” by Brad Chessum

The wind was much too vicious to kayak down the shallow river but Lukas had wanted one last jaunt before he headed back to familiar lands. He had enjoyed a summer adventure in the British Columbian wilderness looking after a secluded cabin whose wealthy owners seldom had time to visit. He looked forward to regaling his experiences to friends back home. The frigid air that encases the coastal peaks of British Columbia hurtled down the mountain sides. Funnelling down the river, increasing its potency. No, the river was no place for a day like ...

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“Butcherbird” by Brad Chessum

Submitted to Contest #232

I will write out my story here, one I have told before but this time it won’t be regulated or altered. I shall tell it with no regard to how it can influence the outcome of my life, because now, it can’t. I will write with no care as to whether anyone will believe or even read my story, because they probably won’t. Forty years ago, a public defence lawyer had listened to my story in a small interrogation room. The truth, he said, doesn’t always help in a court of law. “It’s done for ‘til tomorrow when it’s light and then I can take a...

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“A Mother” by Brad Chessum

Submitted to Contest #230

I don’t know why it came so close to my babies but I had to destroy it. I was full of fear but did not show it. I couldn’t, for the sake of my two little ones and for this colourful and unusual intruder. I felt flustered, I had not seen, heard or smelt this thing and as a result was angry at myself. I stepped toward my little ones to rush them to safety, but quickly understood retreat was not the answer. I turned back to face the threat and I saw shock in its pale face, as well I should have because I bounded toward it with such strides that...

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“Tevoro” by Brad Chessum

Submitted to Contest #230

A short walk along the sugar fine sands brought me to a log structure with a roof fashioned of roughly plaited coconut leaves. In chalk, on a broken sandwich board, read ‘Lucious breakfasts and Loaded cocktails.’ It was a hot day, as it always is in Fiji, so I stooped under the hanging leaves and took a seat. The breeze off the Pacific gave much respite from the morning heat, I shut my eyes, finding the peace I’d come for. “Bula!” A man rushed in, stumbling on a plastic chair shouting the Fijian greeting. The linen shirt he wore looked like ...

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