Hugh J. O'Donnell

As the quarantine spread through the city, the vampire watched, and he waited. He didn’t understand the reports, something about a virus. Germ theory was after his time and he refused to truck with any such modern notions. But he knew a plague year when he saw one.
He’d eaten well, during the plagues. It was harder now. People were being careful, they were staying out of public spaces where he could reach them. But he had new methods.
He rang the doorbell in front of the house. “Hello? This is Vladimir from Quick Bites? I have your food delivery!”

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Every morning before dawn, she went out and collected swords. She had to be careful, and she had to be quick. At first light all the warriors rose to begin their battle anew.
They spent the nights feasting and drinking, and she was obliged to serve them. She only had a few minutes each day to sneak away and collect her treasures.
Every new moon, the ironmonger would come and buy what she had pilfered, paying her a pittance. She hoarded her iron and her gold, and dreamed of the day when she would finally make enough to escape Ragnarok.

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“Hey Lenny!” The other raven sidled up to him on the railing. A beautiful spring morning was about to be ruined, again. He tried to fly away, but another raven had appeared on his left, boxing him in.
He could hear it building on the edge of hearing, a peppy beat from nowhere. The two ravens were telling each other terrible jokes, building towards the inevitable burst of show tunes, with him caught in the middle.
He had vague memories of another life, before the endless singsong. He remembered having too much to drink, a car crash, flames, and darkness.

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Time travel proved too dangerous for humans, but the technology still had its uses. We sent robots back to study the past.
We kept them out of the anthropocene to prevent any paradoxes, but the Jurassic was another story. We’d send back a geotagged bot, then dig up their data in the same spot. Their AI was super-advanced, almost human, which did lead to some foibles.
I tried to explain to my boss as they watched unit 77J’s ultimately destructive attempt to learn to surf.
“At least we learned a lot about tidal action of that era,” I ventured.