Tony Smith

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Sep, 2023

Stories (7)

7 Stories

119 karma pts

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“Obsession” by Tony Smith

Submitted to Contest #291

ObsessionBy Tony SmithWith the heavy suitcase bumping against my leg, I manoeuvred my way between the seats to the front carriage and shared the view of the driver. Gleaming rail tracks, following the gentle contours of the Surrey hills, were fast disappearing beneath my feet. Rabbits grazing went tail-up and ran, tumbling into their burrows, as the steel monster invaded. I’m -going-home. I’m-going-home, beat in my brain to the rhythm of the wheels. Ahead a tunnel of solid blackness - then we leapt into bright summer sun. I picked-up my sui...

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“Agincourt: Ungrateful Courage” by Tony Smith

Submitted to Contest #260

The Battle of Agincourt:Ungrateful Courage By Tony Smith The English have been fighting the French for a hundred years and don't tire of it. They have wanted revenge ever since we defeated them at the battle of Hastings. When the French king went insane and attacked his own troops at Le Mans, the English seized the opportunity to attack. Our spies reported that Henry is raising an army and assembling a fleet of ships at Dover. I was instructed by my master the Duke of Burgundy to patrol the coast of Normandy. I watched the flotilla of ships...

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“Everyone Must Carry Their Own Luggage” by Tony Smith

Submitted to Contest #249

'Everyone Must Carry Their Own Luggage' It's the third double brandy J B Foxley MBE, has tipped into the plant pot, the palm looks healthy enough but might feel a bit groggy in the morning. Foxley was awarded an MBE for 'services to export': in spite of a severe bout of yellow fever contracted in West Africa he had bravely continued to carry out export duties, and Foxley vowed in future to resist the welcoming ladies at the Ikeja Club in Lagos. He is watching the boy dancing with a whore. Mohamed is only eighteen, soft-baked, his first time...

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“The Blind Gardener of New Delhi Junction” by Tony Smith

Submitted to Contest #218

The Blind Gardner of New Delhi Junction by Tony Smith I awoke from a deep sleep, confused until the institutional smell of boiled stew and the omnipresent smell of antiseptic invaded my nostrils. Busy bustling feet came close to me, “You'll be alright” she whispered - her warmth against my skin stirred my senses. Entering hospital, you surrender your body for maintenance, but not your mind, and not your senses. Inside my head I was free to travel in time and space and as the end of life approached I reverted to memories of being a child. Ch...

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“Double Blind” by Tony Smith

Submitted to Contest #216

Double Blind By Tony Smith Balancing a tray in his arms Cecil mounts the stairs, muttering: ‘I’ve strangled the cat, poisoned the fish, put glass in the toothpaste and spat in the cocoa’. He pushes open the door with a shoulder. “I’ve brought your breakfast, dear. The cocoa’s just as you like it.” “Don’t stand there, idiot. Put it down . . . not there, on the table, fool.” “I’ve run your bath, dear.” “Don’t mutter. I’ve told you about muttering.” “Sorry, Agnes. The bedroom has that cloying fetid smell of sleep: a witch’s brew of unwashe...

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“The Slaying of a Monster” by Tony Smith

Submitted to Contest #215

THE SLAYING OF A MONSTER By Tony Smith My name is Parachatphonbamrum.Thai names are as long as freight trains so we are given nicknames, mine is Pizza shortened to Za. “I’ll arrange for a donation.” Father said loftily. “It is a sad human being who takes pride in becoming a doctor of philosophy as the result of a bribe.” “To build an extension to the university library is not a bribe.” “You know full well father, you can buy anything in Bangkok, a driving license, a degree, a judge - everything except honour.” So I studied for a Ph...

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“A Tale of Two Summers” by Tony Smith

Submitted to Contest #214

A Tale of Two Summers By Tony Smith With the heavy suitcase bumping against my legs, I manoeuvred my way between the seats to the front carriage and shared the view of the driver. Gleaming rail tracks, following the gentle contours of the Surrey hills, were fast disappearing beneath my feet. Rabbits grazing went tail-up and ran, tumbling into their burrows, as the steel monster invaded. I’m -going-home. I’m-going-home, beat in my brain to the rhythm of the wheels. Ahead a tunnel of solid blackness - then we leapt into bright summer sun. I ...

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