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CONTEST ENDED – Thank you for submitting your stories!

#219: In the Panopticon

In the 18th century, philosopher and social theorist Jeremy Bentham came up with a new way of enforcing social discipline. The Panopticon, as he called it, referred to a physical building — a prison built around a central observation tower where the guards can see all cells at all times, while the inmates never know if they are being watched or not. Much like the building, in a Panopticon society, the mere threat of surveillance or (social) repercussions is meant to encourage self-regulation and eradicate misbehavior.

This week’s prompts are inspired by different forms of surveillance, confinement, and self-monitoring. From speed cameras that may or may not be recording to judgmental inner voices, let’s explore group think, social norms, and freedom of body and soul.

🥇 Winner

“Cell 3.47” by Kate Hughes

🏆 Winner of Contest #219

Cell 3.47 was situated on the third floor of B wing in Stocken Gate prison, slap bang in the heart of London’s east end. Known as The Gate, the prison had a reputation for being a tough place to do time. The inmates behind the doors at The Gate endured long cold winters in the Victorian slammer that had been condemned many times but had always escaped closure. It was harsh, it was hard, and it was overrun by rats.Paula Pritchard was the sole resident of cell 3.47, but due to the rodent crisis she was rarely alone. All her schemes to see to t...

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⭐️ Shortlisted

“Prison Chip” by Tom Skye

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

I am awake. What is this cell? Blackness, emptiness, where am I? How long have I been here?"Ok, Congressman Jones, Dr. Spears, now for the final leg of the University tour. I am Professor Colin Shelley; please step through here. You are now to witness the jewel in our crown. The fruits of our exploration into organ on a chip."Shelley led them through the laboratory. Rows of partially lit fume hoods lined the room's left, and a larger biosafety cabinet was positioned in the far-left corner. Benches with various apparatus and glassware we...

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“Damn the Lizard Patriarchy” by Hazel Ide

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

CW: Off-page mentions of suicide and sexual assault.When I was young, I fell in love with a girl. Her heavy black Doc Marten boots, climbing out of her boyfriend's shitty old sedan, caught my eye as I stumbled off the school bus, my friend slamming into me from behind. I watched her smile and laugh, dumbstruck, before I was shouldered out of the way by other students, anxious to flee the tall yellow monstrosity behind me, but I couldn't stop staring. She wore a crushed velvet blue mini dress, a thick black choker necklace, and fishnet t...

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“Cell Phone Cell” by Hannah Lynn

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

Was it worth it? She hardly liked the taste, would probably not even get it down with the knot growing in her stomach reaching up to her throat. She zoomed in on herself. Cute? Could it be cuter. She glanced toward the clock then the door. Two minutes before her interview. Having no idea what the recruiter looked like she took the risk and took another selfie with her Pumpkin Spice Latte, then zoomed in. Yeah. Cuter. She posted it. “Katelyn?” An older woman stood over her, seemingly to ap...

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“Dorothy's Dance Party” by Kathryn Kahn

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

On her 75th birthday, Dorothy had a heart attack. Her cardiologist called it “your first heart attack,” which caused Dorothy to close her lips tightly and glare at him. She had no intention of having another, thank you very much. Having a heart attack was so much fuss, what with the pain and the worry and the ambulance and all her neighbors watching her taken away. Then there was the emergency surgery and the tests and new medications and her son having to fly out from three states away. Then on top of everything else, there was cardiac re...

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“The Exodus of the Corporate Zombies” by Jonathan Page

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

I harbor a secret fantasy that the lot of us are undead zombies. Shuffling corpses. Slavish, insentient lumps of meat. Navigating the public transportation system by reflex, devoid of any signs of higher-level cognitive function.I am waiting on a train platform to board the Long Island Railroad. The platform of Riverhead Station is indistinguishable from the platforms of any of the multitude of other trains run by the Metropolitan Transit Authority. The branching arteries all lead back to the beating heart—New York, New York—the Big App...

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“Watchers” by J.B. Redel

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

The asylum's security surveillance room was a claustrophobic chamber adorned with peeling wallpaper, crumbling shelves stacked with aged records, a small wooden desk, and an uncomfortable metal chair that creaked under the most minute amount of weight. A single, rotary dial telephone sat on the desk. A thick layer of dust covered every surface but the desk and chair. The dim overhead light bulb flickered sporadically, casting eerie shadows across the aging linoleum floor that peeled in the corners.The centerpiece of this dilapidated room was...

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“No One is Watching” by Kelly L

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

I think someone’s watching. I have heard that it’s normal to feel like you’re being watched after you commit a murder. Maybe it is guilt, maybe it is paranoia. Just in case it is intuition, I walk over to the windows quickly. I look around the backyard, I see nothing except night punctuated by a few Christmas lights strung around a privacy fence. Lucky we are on the second floor. I can still hear the muffled noise of the crowd downstairs. Ella, our department chair and her husband Richard always throw the faculty holiday party.&nb...

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“Subconcious Convictions” by J.B. Redel

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains mentions of the following: Child abuse Death Blood Gun violence PTSD Mental Health Reader discretion is advised. ****** They say in the moment of tragedy, time slows down. During those precious seconds, the mind accelerates. Your surroundings blur and disappear as your attention turns inward. You consider the events that led you to this point and what you could – or should – have done different. You consider who this will affect. You’re suddenly acutely aware of every regret you have. Things you w...

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“Perfect” by Leigh Johnson

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

We had achieved perfection: total equality, immersive community, life sustained; not by death but by living in balance. We left behind our baser instincts: war, reproduction, gluttony and envy. There were no unwanted babies born, no addicts, no starvation, or deaths from preventable disease. There were pleasurable activities: walking, sports, gardening, art, performance. Not for the purpose of winning, or outshining others, but for the collective enjoyment of participating. We had transcended the need for pairing off and spousal ownership. W...

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“The Prison Cell Called Loneliness” by Jasmine Trivett

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

Garry Norman Garfield lll was lonely. Though his warm smile and eyes brimming with kindness might hint otherwise, they were as fake as his cheap brown toupee. Garry used to have a family. He used to live a life full of merry Christmases and suburban bliss. He used to have a loving wife, a child who radiated bubbly boyhood, a full head of luscious hair. But now he only had the empty friend called lonely. That, and his hermit crabs.Garry rubbed his eyes, reaching for his glasses with a heavy sigh that echoed in the hollow space. His spectacles...

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This week's prompts

Write a story that includes the line “I think someone’s listening/watching.”

Dialogue – 53 stories

Set your story in a type of prison cell.

Dark – 81 stories

Write from the POV of a security guard on the night shift, sitting in front of a wall of CCTV feeds.

Dramatic – 47 stories

Write about someone who is shackled by fears of failure, until they break free.

Character – 29 stories

Write a story about someone who breaks an unwritten social rule and the consequences they face as a result.

Angst – 43 stories

Stories

“Cell 3.47” by Kate Hughes

🏆 Winner of Contest #219

Cell 3.47 was situated on the third floor of B wing in Stocken Gate prison, slap bang in the heart of London’s east end. Known as The Gate, the prison had a reputation for being a tough place to do time. The inmates behind the doors at The Gate endured long cold winters in the Victorian slammer that had been condemned many times but had always escaped closure. It was harsh, it was hard, and it was overrun by rats.Paula Pritchard was the sole resident of cell 3.47, but due to the rodent crisis she was rarely alone. All her schemes to see to t...

Read story

“Prison Chip” by Tom Skye

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

I am awake. What is this cell? Blackness, emptiness, where am I? How long have I been here?"Ok, Congressman Jones, Dr. Spears, now for the final leg of the University tour. I am Professor Colin Shelley; please step through here. You are now to witness the jewel in our crown. The fruits of our exploration into organ on a chip."Shelley led them through the laboratory. Rows of partially lit fume hoods lined the room's left, and a larger biosafety cabinet was positioned in the far-left corner. Benches with various apparatus and glassware we...

Read story

“Damn the Lizard Patriarchy” by Hazel Ide

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

CW: Off-page mentions of suicide and sexual assault.When I was young, I fell in love with a girl. Her heavy black Doc Marten boots, climbing out of her boyfriend's shitty old sedan, caught my eye as I stumbled off the school bus, my friend slamming into me from behind. I watched her smile and laugh, dumbstruck, before I was shouldered out of the way by other students, anxious to flee the tall yellow monstrosity behind me, but I couldn't stop staring. She wore a crushed velvet blue mini dress, a thick black choker necklace, and fishnet t...

Read story

“A Week of Casseroles” by Michał Przywara

Submitted to Contest #219

Casserole Night is what Date Night grew up to be, after Date Night’s dreams were put in a plain brown takeout bag and buried in the backyard. Neither Ben nor Heather remembered exactly what had killed the dreams, nor what the dreams even were anymore since it all happened years ago, but they were content to stew in the welcome boringness of Casserole Night. Which is why Ben was alarmed when the new neighbours at 777 threatened to ruin everything. “Oh my god,” Ben said, his fork clattering to his plate. Heather nodded to herself. This is wher...

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“Resurgence ” by Derrick M Domican

Submitted to Contest #219

TW Suggestion of domestic violence, general violence, and child abuse. May cause offense.In the darkness of oblivion, now and as forever, swathes and waves of misery wash over me.Disembodied, immutable, adrift, I should be at peace after all of this time on my own, but the sounds of suffering and pain continue to assault me, as they have done since I was delivered, from one prison to another, tethered by the constraints of many others.Breathless, urgent cries like the bleating of sheep being slaughtered.High-pitched, keening wails like those...

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“Every Night Is Cake” by Story Time

Submitted to Contest #219

The clock doesn’t dictate the pace. The pace is separate from the clock. The clock tells you it’s one. So what? It doesn’t have to be one. It could be two or three. It could be next Thursday. You don’t go by the clock. You go by what you see in front of you. Sixteen screens. The Sweet Sixteen. The guy who worked the night shift before you used to say every night was cake. You never got what that meant, but you didn’t worry about it. You are given the answer to one unanswerable question in this life, and you certainly aren’t going to use it t...

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“Flibbertigibbet” by Chris Campbell

Submitted to Contest #219

“You couldn’t keep your big trap shut, could you, George.” “Helen come on, it just slipped out.” “I told you in the strictest of confidence.” “Well, technically, you didn’t say don’t tell anyone.” “What part of keep it to yourself did you not understand?” “I thought that because you told me two weeks ago, it wasn’t confidential anymore.” “There are no statutes of limitations on secrets, George! Now, everyone at work knows, our neighbours know, the postman knows; and what’s worse, is that the vicar knows!” “What’s the postman got to do with a...

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“Dorothy's Dance Party” by Kathryn Kahn

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

On her 75th birthday, Dorothy had a heart attack. Her cardiologist called it “your first heart attack,” which caused Dorothy to close her lips tightly and glare at him. She had no intention of having another, thank you very much. Having a heart attack was so much fuss, what with the pain and the worry and the ambulance and all her neighbors watching her taken away. Then there was the emergency surgery and the tests and new medications and her son having to fly out from three states away. Then on top of everything else, there was cardiac re...

Read story

“Cell Phone Cell” by Hannah Lynn

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #219

Was it worth it? She hardly liked the taste, would probably not even get it down with the knot growing in her stomach reaching up to her throat. She zoomed in on herself. Cute? Could it be cuter. She glanced toward the clock then the door. Two minutes before her interview. Having no idea what the recruiter looked like she took the risk and took another selfie with her Pumpkin Spice Latte, then zoomed in. Yeah. Cuter. She posted it. “Katelyn?” An older woman stood over her, seemingly to ap...

Read story

“Happy Place” by AnneMarie Miles

Submitted to Contest #219

I am dancing, but it is more like existing. Existing here, in this perfectly beautiful place. My body absorbs everything around me: the delicious warmth of a never-setting sun, the reggae music, the luscious greenery of the mountains and valleys, the brightly colored flowers, the bare skinned people brushing up against me. My body can’t help it: it is swaying slowly, rhythmically. It is liquid in its movements, gliding up and down and side to side. The music travels through my whole body like a river. Nowhere for it to escape, it just kee...

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“My Time in Dently” by Kailani B.

Submitted to Contest #219

I’d never before considered murdering someone. The idea that I might know who deserved to live and who must die always struck me as arrogant. What marked someone as valuable and just, or waste and immoral, and who among us could rightly make the call? No no. Leave the moralizing to the philosophers and let me never wonder how you might become a prisoner, one of The Others. But that’s what I was now: a captive in a small cell, one of The Others, a deplorable aspect of society, stripped of my old luxuries of gourmet coffee and sleek cars. ...

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“Swing A Sparrow On A String” by Kenneth Goldman

Submitted to Contest #219

Angela opened her eyes to a new day not knowing if it were morning. There were no windows in her room, and it could have been the middle of the afternoon, or even midnight. She heard no sounds except her own breathing, and when she awoke she inhaled and exhaled heavily, as if she had just completed a marathon race instead of having slept for hours. Perhaps she had slept for days. She had stopped wondering about time months ago. Now she simply slept for as long as she was able, then stayed awake for as long as was necessary. She knew she w...

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“Simon’s Gospel” by Martin Ross

Submitted to Contest #219

To Cassie FinchCAUTION; Language, possible religious triggers, discussion of women’s reproductive rights.The table felt funny.That generally went without saying. Simon knew by rote the number of steps from his apartment house to Warshinski’s on Division, how many lights he must chance on the morning pilgrimage (two), and how many coat hooks he must count from the entry step-down to rear booth (Warshinski’s was OG Chicago). He could smell 30 feet before Mrs. Warshinski slid his standing order onto the formica with a mute pat on the shoulder. ...

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“Deeper than the Darkest Night” by Michelle Oliver

Submitted to Contest #219

Waking is my nightmare. When I open my eyes, there is nothing and for the briefest moment, I am drowning, lost in the prison of this endless and suffocating void. I scream, but the sound is stolen from me. I am buried alive in the unrelenting blackness that is deeper than the darkest night.Then the reality crashes back into my brain as my flailing hand makes sharp contact with human flesh. Small hands press against my chest and face, while unheard whispers sizzle over my cheeks. It’s then that I remember; I’m blind and deaf, the cruel conseq...

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“Happy Anniversary” by Amanda Lieser

Submitted to Contest #219

At exactly 5pm Catherine heads into the restaurant. She sat in her car half an hour, waiting, but refusing to be early. She wasn’t early for Adam anymore. Before long, she is sitting at her booth, knee bobbing gently beneath her table. She stretches out her neck, feeling particularly sore before her meal. Ever since she took that wedding ring off, regular spin classes were back on the schedule. Beside her, a long, red, faux fur lined jacket. It was the first thing she bought after she walked out of divorce court and the perfect pairing for h...

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$250

Prize money

253

Contest entries

114

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Oct 13, 2023 EST

Won by Kate Hughes 🏆

Title: Cell 3.47

Submissions must be between 1,000 - 3,000 words and will be approved and published on Reedsy Prompts within 7 days of the contest closing.

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