Hugh J. O'Donnell

He decided to reorganize his bookshelves, but he couldn’t decide how best to do it. He wanted it to be unique, to be be a statement about himself.
He considered organizing by genre, but decided that was boring. He thought about arranging his books by color, but didn’t like the way it looked.
In the end, he decided to order them by authors’ first name. Unfortunately, he was interrupted early in the process, and didn’t get past the first letter before shoving them all back randomly on the shelves.
It would be forever lost, his library of Alex and Aria.

The adventurers came upon the ruined inn deep in the forest. The day was late, and the trail rougher than expected, so they decided to take shelter where they could.
The main building was built of good stone, and the roof only leaked in spots. A century ago, before The Calamity, it would have been bustling with travelers weary from the road. Now the ruin was as silent as a tomb, but at least it was warm and dry.
The ghosts whispered excitedly to one another. There was much to do. It had been so long since they’d had guests.

The witch left seeds out for the birds every morning.
At first, the blackbird avoided it, certain that it was poison. He would watch the other birds peck at the seeds, heedless and twittering, and watch what happened to them.
When they didn’t fall over dead, he hopped to a closer branch, watching carefully for her cats to come tearing out of a dark corner to pick off a straggler.
When they didn’t appear, he flew to the edge of the feeder.
He would take her food, but never forgive her for the curse changed his form from a man’s.

The woods outside of the village was a ‘soft’ place. The occasional hiker went missing, but strange and wondrous objects could be found among the misty pines.
A cottage industry grew around the site, catering to thrill seekers and treasure hunters. Things went well for many years. A few people got rich, a few people went missing, but for the most part the village simply prospered.
Until the scout appeared with his loose clothes and strange weapons. He surveyed the village and spoke into a device on his wrist.
“The portal is stable and resistance minimal. Send the army through.”

The Alien Commander stood and watched the workmen tear down the galaxy. He’d have liked to sit, but his Star Throne had already been removed.
He heard a polite cough and turned to see the Plucky Junior Officer standing beside him. They hadn’t worked together much, so he’d never noticed how young he was.
“What will you do next?” the kid asked.
“Go back to the Theatre, I suppose. You?”
“I dunno.”
“Let me give you some advice. Your first series is always special, but nothing lasts.”
Someone in the control booth flicked a switch, and the stars winked out.

The dryad sat curled in a high branch of her tree, with a pile of swords resting near the roots.
“Where did you get those?” A passing faerie asked.
“The knights gave them to me.”
“And what did you give them?”
“A quest, of course. What else?”
“A quest for what?”
“I had some ideas about establishing trade routes. I convinced them all to become merchants.”
“Why?”
“I like spicy food, and I haven’t been free to travel in centuries.”
“But who will defend the kingdom?”
“Don’t worry, the ladies will be arriving for sword practice in a few minutes.”