Hugh J. O'Donnell

As thanks for freeing him when he was transformed into a fish, the Dragon King gave the fisherman a net woven from moonlight.
The fisherman thought it was too fine for him, but minding his manners, accepted it and thanked his friend for his generosity.
He hung the magical net in his hut, and went back out to sea with his old equipment. The Dragon King was furious, and demanded to know why he wasn’t using his gift. The fisherman explained.
“I have seen many fish swimming in the moonlight, but this old rope net caught the Dragon King himself!”

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When the ruling came down that AI were sentient beings, and thus fully entitled to Human Rights, pundits speculated that it would be the end of the robot business.
But things churned right along. The AI still emerged, and robot bodies were still built for them. But instead of being ‘property,’ now they were ‘customers.’ No longer provided a body, the AI were ushered into work agreements to pay for their new hardware. Plus maintenance, fuel, storage, and incidentals. But once the shells were paid for, they were theirs.
At least until they started breaking down and needed new ones.

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“It’s a bit busy, dear,” Jayna’s mother said, adjusting the hologram. “Symbols are like accessories. Take one off before you leave the hose.” Jayna looked out at the planet below and said nothing.
They’d been running this scam on undeveloped worlds for years. Find a pre-industrial civilization, appear as a goddess, do a few ‘miracles,’ then rake in the tithes before ascending again.
This would be Jayna’s first solo mission, and she’d gone all out. Snakes, hourglasses, scrollwork, and a fetching monochromatic motif. With a petulant wave, she dismissed the serpents. Some days she just couldn’t believe her mother.

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When he was named emperor, he imagined the crowds, the palaces, the beautiful life to which he would now be elevated.
He had to imagine it, because the heavy golden crown came down past his forehead and coved his eyes.
“You lead the empire with your clarity of vision, your grace. You mustn’t be distracted,” his attendants admonished.
They led him through his palace, and he heard his footfalls echo through marble hallways. They read him his edicts, and they told him where to sign.
They told him he was doing an outstanding job, and he imagined it was true.

Everyone said the old battlefield was haunted. But the farmer had been delayed getting supplied in town, and the road was full of bandits. She chose between possible ghosts and certain humans.
She was just past the rusting hulk of an old power armor when she spotted the demon. The small, crimson face leered at her from behind a fuselage. She looked closer.
The red face and glowing eyes were a mask. Behind it was a child, shaking in fear.
She brought the girl home, fed and clothed her. And in the morning, the world seemed a little less haunted.

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