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Chris Campbell

Author on Reedsy Prompts since Dec, 2021

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127 Stories

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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’ ...

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The Red Fields of France

Weekly Contest #173

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 sliced i...

26 likes 11 comments 11
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Truth And Consequence

Shortlisted for Contest #172 ⭐️

“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 seventh sense of embedded direction into your immoral ...

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The Ballad of Major Tom

Weekly Contest #171

“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 Tom, orders… We have a developing situ...

29 likes 21 comments 21
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May Day

Weekly Contest #170

“I’ve got a plan.” “NO!” “What do you mean, no?” “In the same vernacular of No more plans, no.” “Why not?” “Because your plans are shit!” “For example?” “Take a look around, genius…” Tom Daly and Eric Watkins had been friends since boyhood. Mates in school, drinking buddies at their local pub, and currently, failed partners in crime, as the two compadres visually surveyed the box-like bank vault they had inadvertently trapped themselves in. “How was I to know the door shut automatically?” Eric unapologetically pointed out. Tom remained silen...

42 likes 33 comments 33
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Copycat

Weekly Contest #169

“SHOO!” Bertrand Aurelier had been walking home along the moonlit country road when something in his bleary-eyed vision caused him to freeze in place. Swaying from the strong effects of drinking a little bit too much local wine at a Halloween party, he looked oddly out of place dressed as a skeleton amongst the hedgerows of the French countryside. “I said, Shoo! Allez Maitenant!” A curious black cat had unexpectedly appeared in response to Bertrand’s wailing, off-key singing. Positioning itself dead centre of the rural lane, it sat with tai...

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By The Withernsea

Shortlisted for Contest #168 ⭐️

“What thee mean, you’re closing down our station?” Ernest Claybourn protested almost inaudibly, as he stood on his station’s platform under a torrential Yorkshire Autumn downpour. “Well, I’ll go t’foot of our stairs – if I had any. That’s how gobsmacked I am.” Charles Fotherington-Clarke stood opposite Ernest, drenched from head to foot. Moments prior, he had been enjoying the warmth and comfort of a first-class carriage on the Hull to Withernsea steam train. Disembarking amid Yorkshire’s wettest October on record, the elements provided him ...

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Walmart

Weekly Contest #167

Dave Maddison pulled his coat collar up to warm his neck as he walked down rain-sodden Oxford Street in London’s West End. It was Halloween and under his raincoat, he was dressed as Superman on his way to a Singles fancy dress party. His satin cape fluttered in the early evening breeze, draped outside his coat to prevent it from creasing and looking cheap, as he ignored the snickering of passers-by - unaware of the effect the rain had on his exposed cape. What had started as a light flapping of the blue cape, had transformed into the drag of...

23 likes 11 comments 11
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Click

Weekly Contest #166

“Why ya wanna do it again, Champ? The doctors all said your mind can’t take the punishment no more. You’ve had your moment. Let the others fight over your leftovers. You got nuthin to prove!” James Lightning Rod Johnson stood staring out of his penthouse window high above the New York skyline, observing the busy streets below, jammed with traffic and people that – from his high perspective – looked like armies of ants devouring every inch of sidewalk with their systematic marching to and from wherever their day dictated. James couldn’t help ...

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A Case of the Obvious

Shortlisted for Contest #165 ⭐️

It was a strange dinner party. Four of the guests sat deathly silent, flicking their eyes left and right accompanied by discreet raises of their eyebrows and short, quick jerks of their necks – as if trying to communicate a strange form of bodily semaphore. The intended recipient of such a choir of twitches and tight lips seated around the table was none other than Anthony Pratt, the co-creator of the board game, Cluedo. Seated next to him, his wife Elva was engrossed in full conversation with the evening’s soiree host, Mrs. Hannah Osmington...

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The Old Philologian

Weekly Contest #164

Kenneth Crook slipped his arms through the black robe of authority more commonly worn by school masters in the English public education system like Eaton, and the universities of Oxford and Cambridge. However, today – like every school day for the past three decades, he was preparing to teach Grammar School pupils in the heart of London’s Marylebone district at a school fighting for its very existence in the Conservative governments’ restructuring of the school class system. It was the 1970s. The era of working-class upheaval. Kenneth had al...

19 likes 5 comments 5
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That Must Have Hurt

Weekly Contest #163

I was in a tunnel falling backwards, away from a small round light rapidly shrinking at the other end. Shit… this is it… How did I let this happen? This is a mistake. No, it’s a series of regrettable events. Think quickly, Chris. Recount the lead-up to this moment. You must try to make some sense of it before it’s too late. Try and hold on to your conscious thought. Let’s see… I visited my regular haunt, the Harp Inn on a quiet night. Only a few people I know are there to chat with, so I talked short, drank long, and became inebriated quite...

22 likes 9 comments 9
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Petal

Weekly Contest #162

I sat with my back to the wall farthest away from the door. I knew she was close. I could smell her flowery perfume a mile away. When you expect the hit, you make sure as hell you can see it coming. Some say it’s best not to look. To just finish your last supper and wait, staring at the wall. They say the stress ruins your dinner, like a lamb led visibly to slaughter. Food never tastes good when stressed but judging by the selections in the menu gently placed on my table, I figure the food here tastes the same… dead. Keeping my eyes peeled o...

27 likes 18 comments 18
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The Duke Of Plaza-Tourette Syndrome

Weekly Contest #161

Since he was ten years old, Justin Weatherly always felt different from everyone else. He couldn’t explain his urges to anyone, convinced he would be ostracised from his school friends, his family, and society in general. Forced to hide his shame away in his bedroom closet, or isolated in the tool shed at the bottom of his garden, he clandestinely hid his affliction from prying eyes and ears, indulging his secret fetish until it ran its course. Afterwards, Justin would feel completely exhausted, almost embarrassed at the recollection of his ...

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The Transitory Nature of Earthly Joy

Weekly Contest #160

I sit here perched on the edge of obscurity ignoring the never-ending, kettle-like whistle incessantly piercing my conscious thought. Diverting my attention toward the vast vacuum of space enveloping our very existence, I dismiss the high-pitched scream that enforces upon me an overbearing sense of isolation. Watching for any sign of movement through my oversized rectangular portal, I detect nothing but dust and rocks stretching for eternity across its barren red vista.  Somewhere out there, help is on its way, and I want to be the...

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