Chris Campbell

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2021

Stories (63)

63 Stories

2155 karma pts

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“Limited Support” by Chris Campbell

“Houston…? Hey, Houston, are you there?” “Yes, boss!” “…We have a problem…” “Okay, what’s the problem?” “The Internet is down.” “That’s more of a setback than a problem, isn’t it?” “It’s a fucking problem when I can’t load my invoices! It’s a problem when I can’t access my fucking bank account!” “Alright, alright. No need to get shirty with me. I’ll look into it.” “…Thank you…” “…Looking at the server… the server says… everything is working normal.” “So, why can’t I pu...

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“The Mark of David” by Chris Campbell

“Excuse me,” the restless old man asked. “I seem to have misplaced my suitcase. Can you see it?” The obvious concern in the tone of his voice, solicited an instant response from the young man standing beside him. “I see many suitcases,” replied the young man. “What colour is it?” “You have me at a disadvantage, the old man curiously responded. “What colour do suitcases usually come in?” The peculiarity of the question immediately brought to light that the old man was blind. Without drawing unwanted attention ...

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“New Eden” by Chris Campbell

“You are entering New Eden’s demerit-free zone,” the voice on the tannoy system announced. “For your own safety, all demerit-positive citizens must turn back now… Remember, rations are a privilege. Demerits are a scourge.” I hear these repetitive warnings day after day after so many others, that I’ve lost count. They are a constant reminder of the oppressive regime’s total control of the populace. The long line of green-overalled men and women, shuffling slowly past the automated scanner, share a mutual fear of t...

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“Tomorrow's Lament” by Chris Campbell

“Jaysus died for all our sins…” Henry “Hank” Hope pondered over the words thrust at him by the short, skinny priest stood before him in front of a row of trash cans. Startlingly appearing from out of nowhere within the Bostonian alleyway that Hank was relieving himself, the small man bore a remarkable resemblance to the old Irish actor, Barry Fitzgerald – a legend of the atypical Irishman depicted in old black and white movies. A guise that was curiously disarming in its visual demeanour, but highly suspicious in its sudde...

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“Maladie” by Chris Campbell

“It’s either heads or tails, mister…. Heads we fight… tails… well, I guess it’s yer lucky day. Whatever you call don’t matter none to me, coz, if we draw, you die…” Chance Petersen was an ornery, two-faced, back-shooting son-of-a-bitch that wasn’t happy until he picked at least one fight with someone before supper time. The misfortune today, just happened to fall upon the head of a lonely drifter who wandered dry and thirsty into the aptly named, The Last Drink Saloon, in a temporary makeshift railroad town in Arizona cal...

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“A Dropped Ball” by Chris Campbell

“Lose weight, tick…”“Hey, hold on! What weight did you lose?”“I lost almost two pounds.”“When?”“In January.”“Have you weighed yourself since then?”“…No, but I wrote my end-of-December and beginning-of-January weights down on a piece of tape and stuck it to the back of the scales as a guide…”“Right, wait there, I’ll get the scales.”“…While you’re doing that, I’m going to tick… Stop procrastinating… no, I’ll tick that later… How’s about, Exercise more… yes, that’s a t...

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“The Year Of The Cat” by Chris Campbell

Daydreaming, I sat looking out the kitchen window, as the smell of roast potatoes, turkey, and brussels sprouts filled the crisp and cold winter air feeding the rising damp of our unheated house. The light chill in the air caused some condensation to form on the window glass, so, to pass some time, I playfully traced the shape of a Christmas tree onto it with my index finger. Hunger pangs had me longing for something to eat, as the glorious aroma of the prepared feast swirled around the humid kitchen, out into the hallway, and sn...

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“Lost In Cockney” by Chris Campbell

“Me slabs are killin’ me, me minces are sore from the chimney backin’ up, and I’ve been on the dog and bone all mornin’ sittin’ at the bottom of the apples, offering bangers and mash to anyone that could come on short notice to clean the chimney - but I don’t have a Danny-La-Rue when that will be. Me ol’ china’s a sweep but the trouble and strife don’t care for him, so to avoid a barney, I won’t ask him over.” Lord Peabody stood with mouth agape at the apparent foreign language one of London’s most colourful dialects had just thru...

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“Alfie, The Great” by Chris Campbell

“My Dad says you’re shit!” The forthright ten-year-old boy defiantly stood in front of the birthday party magician, passing on the self-qualified negative review of his father. Not sure of what to say to the little primary school-grade upstart, the magician returned a silent momentary glare before reaching behind the boy’s right ear and producing a gold coin from thin air. The boy’s eyes widened with surprise at the parlour trick, then faster than he was impressed, he became equally unimpressed. “Is that all?” He pertinentl...

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“Me Myself and I” by Chris Campbell

Dear young me… I fucking hate you. Not once in your youthful, pain-free, handsome days, did you think about me. You selfish prick! This has been such a one-way relationship from day one. You, you, you, is all you thought about. No consideration for the old folk or their troubles. The sad thing for me, is that I think of you all the time. I even talk about you to everyone I know, but do I even get one mention in your life – apart from will I still have hair? You… vain, arrogant, self-centered wanker! All that money you earned and spent on...

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“Airborne All The Way” by Chris Campbell

It had been a blustery day of Autumnal Kentucky weather, wildly shaking the last leafy hangers-on from their Red Maple tree perches. Winter was fast approaching the back roads of Henderson County and leaf raking was a natural rite of seasonal passage in Dan Grayson’s part of the world. It also provided a calming respite from the lingering combat memories of his military service to his country, years prior. Living on the corn and tobacco farm inherited from his late parents, Dan worked tirelessly to maintain a tradition passed down...

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“Exact Change Only” by Chris Campbell

“The hour of the proletariat is upon us brothers and sisters,” announced the silver-haired speaker standing on his box platform. “Never before has the working man had so much weight behind his advance toward equality…”“Wot’d he say?”“He’s explaining Marxist philosophy, Grandad. Saying how the bourgeoisie class has had their day in the sun.”“This is fucking England, Tommo. Nothin but bloody rain all the time. If his bourgeoisie have had their day in the sun, it was probably on a business trip to fuckin’ Corfu....

40 comments 40 SHORTLIST ⭐️

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“The Red Fields of France” by Chris Campbell

Major Terrence “Poppy” Fortescue sat as upright as he could in his army hospital bed. Located two kilometres from Passchendaele, France, his second in command, Special Adjutant Arthur “Dinky” Jenkins sat by his bedside, sharing a moment with him, before heading back to the front line. Discharged from the same hospital, Jenkins had recovered from shrapnel wounds that tore through the flesh on his right arm – the same bombardment that robbed Fortescue of his lower right leg and most of his left arm. The few shards of hot shrapnel that slic...

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“Truth And Consequence” by Chris Campbell

“Government directive TAC-0.3.5 states that Truth is emancipating. Withheld opinions are toxic. To suppress forthright expression is a crime punishable by seventy-two hours of sensory re-education at a holding facility for candour criminals and seditious apostates.” “…What’s your point?” “Well, Freda, my love. I’m invoking The Sanctuary of Marriage Directive, that states, Truth must always be told for the cleansing of relationships.” “Husband, you wouldn’t know the truth, if it slapped a se...

32 comments 32 SHORTLIST ⭐️

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“The Ballad of Major Tom” by Chris Campbell

“Good morning, Houston... A precursory check on readings, show all systems are nominal on this fine morning… Well, my body clock says it’s morning – even though, I’m encircling the Earth at seventeen and a half thousand miles per hour, I’ll probably see sixteen mornings before your day is done.” “…Copy, Major. We hear you loud and clear and congratulations on the inaugural deployment of FODOC, Space Force’s first Forward Operational Defending Orbital Command…” “…Hey Mac, why the formal greeting?” “Sorry ...

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Author bio

Spent most of my adult career working in I.T. Music and storytelling have always been the extracurricular part of my life. However, I'm aiming to change that. For a while in Hollywood during the late 80s - early 90s, I performed and wrote stage plays, wrote screenplays, and had the privilege of pitching movie ideas to Universal. Getting so close to several deals - only for them to fall at the last hurdle, made me lose heart, so I stopped writing. I should have kept going, but I was too impatient to wait for the big opportunity, and against the good advice from a couple of working producers telling me to keep writing, I moved on. After discovering Reedsy (27 years later), I decided to try my hand at short stories. A lot of years have passed by since Hollywood; however, stories old and new are in my head and flowing onto the pages here. The difference now compared to my previous life, is that I'm writing for me and not chasing the carrot anymore. It's been a great practice and challenge creating words and mental pictures from the weekly prompts. A new writer has been born, and as I sharpen my skills, the novel is not far away. I just need to figure out what it's about. 😁

Shortlisted 5 stories ⭐️

Contest #174

Exact Change Only – read story

Contest #172

Truth And Consequence – read story

Contest #168

By The Withernsea – read story

Contest #165

A Case of the Obvious – read story

Contest #136

The Last Hussar – read story