Hugh J. O'Donnell

The aliens made their base on the Moon and silently watched the Earth, never making contact. They disguised their technology, and hid their signals, disappearing into wavelengths we couldn’t detect.
Eventually Humanity took its place amongst the interstellar civilizations. But Terrans couldn’t help but notice how aliens always seemed weirdly embarrassed.
Eventually, a junior delegate got the truth out of her opposite number at a peace conference. “We set up a watch post and observed your civilization for centuries,” he admitted.
“For science?” She asked. “Or because we were a potential threat?”
His three eyes wouldn’t meet hers. “For comedy.”

Each morning, he’d rise early, put on his environment suit, and head out the airlock into the wastes of Mars. He had an important job protecting the colony. He washed off the famous red sand and dirt that threatened to bury the domed city.
A robot could’ve done the work, but as the human population in the colony rose, robots became more expensive than human labor. He was also tasked with checking the ‘glass’ for damage, a job better left to human intelligence.
But he didn’t know what to do when the bird flew past him and into the dome.

The old man sat on a catwalk high above the city, smoking and watching the smoke dance. The lights turning below seemed to make it sparkle as it drifted lazily through the air before it was sucked away by the vents, almost like starlight.
Rotation made block of skyscrapers pass underneath, and he tossed his cigarette butt into a rooftop garden. He didn’t understand why humanity tried to recreate Earth when they’d established the space colonies.
As dawn approached, he rose to his feet and returned to the great wheel, spinning in infinity, trying to recapture a world long lost.

“You’re going to ask me about my ex-husband.” She eyed me over the rim of her martini glass. “It’s alright. Everybody does. He always said we were made for each other. It was charming at first, but before long he turned into his father. He was so wounded by being outcast, that he didn’t know how to be loved. So I left.”
“But that isn’t the whole story, is it?” I asked.
“That’s the thing about stories. Some end where others begin. And you can only stay a bride for so long. To the Frankensteins, darling.” We clinked glasses.

He stood in the center of the abandoned lot and spread his arms wide. “Well, what do you think?”
She looked around, taking in the dilapidated screens, the vast, weedy pavement, and the collapsed snackbar. “I think this place is going to need a lot of work. What makes you want to open a drive-in?”
“It’s 2020. Traditional movie theaters are dead. But folks will feel safe in their cars. There’s about to be a resurgence, and we’ll get in on the ground floor!”
She smiled. “Then let’s get to work,” she said.
That’s when the murder hornets attacked.

The troll stood and loomed over the traveler. “This is my bridge, and you must pay my toll!”
She glared back at him, one hand on the hilt of her sword. “Questmap.com told me there were no tolls on this route.”
“Ugh, those guys,” the troll said, and pulled out his cellphone. “Where’re you headed?”
“The ancient ruins of Fragolino,” she replied.
“That’s not even on this route! You want to go this way.” He pointed to his device.
She thanked him and retreated the way she’d came. He settled into his lurking spot and began composing another complaint email.

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.