{"id":44,"date":"2023-12-21T19:09:15","date_gmt":"2023-12-22T00:09:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/cbcampbell.ca\/?page_id=44"},"modified":"2026-02-03T00:48:41","modified_gmt":"2026-02-03T05:48:41","slug":"writing","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/cbcampbell.ca\/?page_id=44","title":{"rendered":"Flash Fiction"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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My Writing \u2014 Flash FIction<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Flash Fiction is short. Some as short as 100 words, although 500 or even 1,000 can also be considered Flash in some circles. It requires careful editing and creativity to tell a story in so few words. For your reading experience, here are a few samples of my flash fiction writing.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Chickenburger<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Flash Fiction written April 2021<\/em>\"Old<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Back in \u201885, I had a great life. High school was good, I had a part time job, lots of friends and my girlfriend Susie was terrific.  So terrific that on June 29, 1985, the day after our prom, we got engaged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Prom was the night to celebrate the end of high school and the start of our lives as adults. And was it ever.  I raided my gran\u2019s secret gin stash before supper.  Dad had rum and vodka in the kitchen cabinet but he marked the bottles. Gran kept her bottle in the parlour and no one knew how much she drank.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I topped up a half dozen nearly empty ginger ale bottles, squeezed the metal caps back on and headed out.  My mom sniffed me before she gave me the keys, but I was fine.  I only had a small sip and had opened a new pine tree freshener for the car to cover the smell.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I picked up Susie and we had supper with our friends Danny Hache and Tina Tozer at the Pizza Hut.  When we got to the gym we took the \u2018pop\u2019 straight over to the refreshment table, just like everyone else. The grad committee booked a band, so to save money someone (me) had suggested we all bring drinks to keep the cost down.  By bringing ginger ale, I knew no one would want our \u2018pop\u2019.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It worked. By 11 we were both wasted, so wasted that we snuck into a classroom to do the dirty. <\/em> After a little fumbling it was over and we went back to the gym. We had a few slow dances, but mostly sat around grinning at one another.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Susie\u2019s dad was night manager at the Chickenburger and had promised us all combos if we left the party before 1 am so when the band started playing Stairway to Heaven we left, meeting Danny and Tina and driving up to Bedford.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We made it t by 12:55 and rushed in.  Leaving early had paid off \u2013 there were plenty of tables open.  Mr Rice came over when he saw us and started to take our order. I knew he was a bit uptight so I tried to put on my best sober voice.  Susie did too, but he could see something was off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Still we held it together and he headed back to the kitchen with our orders.  The drive in was picking up and other carloads of grads were coming into the place.  He was busy and we were in the clear. We finished eating and got up to leave as he came back to check on us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFood was free but how about a tip for the kitchen staff?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Susie, eager to get out reached into her purse and dropped something on the table.  I saw her dads face fall and looked at the tip.  Five bucks and her pink panties.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

We got engaged the next day.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Bucolic Traveler<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Flash Fiction written April 2020<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"Old<\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n
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Thanks again for encouraging me to get away. I\u2019ve only been here a couple of days but I have to admit I\u2019ve started to relax already. I had my doubts about your idea, but the machine worked and I\u2019ve hardly thought about COVID since I got here. Other than freaking out when my hosts grabbed my bag and shook my hand.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Mr. and Mrs. Ames, the couple who own the place right now, are pleasant but not much for conversation. When I checked in, I got a weather report and an update on which farmers cows are calving.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I\u2019m staying on the second floor \u2013 in the turret room. That\u2019s what they call it, too. I thought Mrs. Ames said \u2018turnip room\u2019 at first, but she \u2018set me to rights\u2019. The rest of the locals seem a quaint lot. They live like Mennonites, but they have a less restrictive sense of fashion. Khaki with buttons, zippers and snaps. And no facemasks \ud83d\ude42 !<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I had trouble getting settled the first night I was here but I slept fine last night. I\u2019m surprised how much I don\u2019t miss the night time noises from home. Not that it\u2019s quiet here, but it\u2019s very different. No sirens or screaming drunks, just wind, an occasional train whistle and a lot of bugs. Oh and the odd moo. It actually sounds like moo!<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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This new low-key vibe has me feeling creative. I know first-hand how to use bucolic in a sentence and I\u2019ve already written three stories. Sitting on the verandah. Writing on paper. Me. You were right \u2013 there\u2019s no place to plug in a laptop in 1918.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tomorrow I\u2019m going to start buying the bank stocks you recommended. I\u2019ll stash this postcard in the attic where we found it, and I promise to include the stock certificates this time.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Just Passing Through<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Flash Fiction written May 2018<\/em>\"B&W<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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I was part of the diaspora from farm to city. I remember when my parents bought a tractor to replace the horses and the hired hand. Dad said things were going to change and he was right.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Like so many of my generation, I headed to Toronto to make big bucks on an assembly line. The conversation at the bar was always the same; we liked the money in the city but missed life in our small towns.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When Consolidated announced the new paper mill, I was drawn back. I didn\u2019t make the short list, but that was OK. I had a plan. I took a severance package from the car plant and went into the garage business. It made sense \u2013 since I had built Fords, I figured that anyone with a Ford would trust me to fix it. Finding a location was easy. There was no money left in farming, so I built on the field right off the main road.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Selling gas was a no-brainer \u2013 Cars only need fixing when they break but they always need gas (or at least they did back then). With the mill opening, and me being the first new garage in town in years, I got a sweet deal from Esso, thanks to my other offer from White Rose. I had the gas pumps installed in a week. It\u2019s different today but back in 1960 there weren\u2019t too many permits or environmental regulations to slow things down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the start, things played out pretty much as I had planned. Lots of folks got new cars \u2013 they bought their gas from me and I kept the old ones running for their kids. The pop machine and the chip rack did a good business too. I got married and we had two sons. Life was good.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n\n\n\n

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About 10 years in, things began to change. The mill started cutting \u2013 a few guys each year but it added up. Young people were moving away again. Luckily my customers were holding onto their cars longer so I had more repair work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then in 73, OPEC stopped shipping oil. Prices went up, gas sales dropped and everyone started watching their dollars a little closer. After the second crisis, Esso decided that they wanted more profit so I got less. In 1981 the province built a new bypass. Trucks got past our town without slowing down and I lost my summer tourists. The boys enjoyed helping out, but I could see the writing on the wall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The year my youngest left for university, I didn\u2019t renew the gas pump contract. I still did tune-ups, oil changes and the odd engine repair, but even that was getting hard to do without a scope and a bunch of other expensive equipment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At 60 I cashed out, knocked over the building and retired. If you\u2019re ever driving by, take the local road through town. I bet you won\u2019t even know I was there.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

My Writing \u2014 Flash FIction Flash Fiction is short. Some as short as 100 words, although 500 or even 1,000 can also be considered Flash in some circles. It requires careful editing and creativity to tell a story in so few words. For your reading experience, here are a few samples of my flash fiction […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":80,"menu_order":1,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-44","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"yoast_head":"\nFlash Fiction - CB Campbell welcomes you!<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/cbcampbell.ca\/?page_id=44\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Flash Fiction - CB Campbell welcomes you!\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"My Writing \u2014 Flash FIction Flash Fiction is short. Some as short as 100 words, although 500 or even 1,000 can also be considered Flash in some circles. 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