Chris Campbell

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2021

Stories (126)

126 Stories

11863 karma pts

?

“A Bronx Tail” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #187

My eyes took a while to adjust to the darkness. I was on the trail of the most alluring feline tail I had ever set eyes upon, beckoning me deeper into an unknown world, void of humans, yet full of intoxicating promises. Not wanting to lose sight of her, my swirling head drunkenly attempted to focus my besotted, veiled view of her – now fading into the shadows of a long alleyway. Those six quick shots I downed right before leaving Henri’s Bar are most definitely not helping my balance or eyesight; however, the hypnotising sway of her walk, ha...

Read story

“Fly Me To The Moon” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #186

“The eighth term is the seventh term plus the sixth term… The ninth term is the eighth term plus the seventh term… The tenth term is the…”“Chuck…”“…Ninth term plus the eighth term…”“Chuck… What are you doing?”“…I’m reciting Fibonacci…”“Fibber what?”“Fibonacci. You know, the thirteenth-century Italian mathematician.”“We’re in the middle of a countdown, here, Chuck… Is that really relevant?”“Well, I’m reciting his famous sequence of numbers…”“…Why?”“Because his sequence of numbers has many applications in mathematics, science, art, and nature....

Read story

“The Second Hand-tique” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #185

Sergeant McTavish hurried along the pathway, passing the local shops lining the centre of his small Scottish village. Responding to reports of a public disturbance, he had been dispatched to investigate and to quickly quell the melee. However, upon turning into the open lot of Rico Colombo’s Second Hand-tiques Recycle Centre, he found himself confronted by the almighty cacophony of a dispute between two women arguing over the validity of a sale. “IT’S MINE AND YOU CAN’T HAVE IT,” shouted the smaller and younger looking of the two women. “I l...

Read story

“Limited Support” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #184

“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 pull up anything on my computer?” “Dunno. Hang on a sec while I put you on h...

Read story

“The Mark of David” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #183

“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 upon him, the young man reached ...

Read story

“New Eden” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #182

“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 the machine that probes their ...

Read story

“Tomorrow's Lament” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #181

“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 sudden out-of-the-shado...

Read story

“Maladie” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #180

“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 called Canyon Diablo – ...

Read story

“A Dropped Ball” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #179

“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 tick…”“Here’s the scales. It’s a little dusty. Obviously not been used for a w...

Read story

“The Year Of The Cat” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #178

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 snaked its en...

Read story

“Lost In Cockney” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #177

“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 thrust upon his...

Read story

“Alfie, The Great” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #176

“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 pertinently asked. “Is not m...

Read story

“Me Myself and I” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #175

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 you...

Read story

“Airborne All The Way” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #175

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 over six g...

Read story

“Exact Change Only” by Chris Campbell

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #174

“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.”Contradictory to Reggie Harris’ ...

Read story

Author bio

** December 23, 2024 - I'm still taking a break from Reedsy, while I do some work on my novel (memoir of my youth as the first English-born child of an Irish family living in London through the swinging 1960s and changing 1970s). Similar to my obsession with the weekly prompts, my focus is currently on writing my memoir. See you all soon, when I see a weekly prompt that I like. ** Comedy is hard to write but so rewarding when the laughs roll in. As I continue to submit stories on Reedsy, I realise that comedy may be my path to follow. If I get serious, please remind me to laugh at the absurdity and to slap myself with a fish. On the off chance that I miss more than three weeks in a row of writing short stories, I'm most likely working on my book. So, should any fellow writers feel the urge to contact me, my email address is novelistinresidence@gmail.com.

Winning 1 story 🏆

Contest #226

Forthright Thursday – read story

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