Hugh J. O'Donnell

It hadn’t stopped snowing in over a year. The village had managed to survive growing potatoes under lamps in dirt-floored basements.
When she couldn’t grow a flower for her mother’s grave, she decided to build one. Electronics were the one thing they had in abundance, so she strung one together from LEDs and a little battery. She placed the electric flower on her mother’s grave and switched it on. It blazed red and orange in the night. Soon, others followed her example.
It had been a year since they’d seen the sky, but the churchyard became a sea of stars.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

When humanity came to survey their planet, the visitors did not deem them an advanced civilization.
Where, the humans asked, were their great cities? Why did they not harvest the full capacity of their planet’s energy production? Why did they not use all the energy produced by their sun? Why did they not colonize their neighboring planets and stars?
The humans judged them as a level zero civilization, unworthy of diplomacy. It suited them fine, as they found the Earthlings distasteful.
It was not that their civilization did not consume, but they had learned what it meant to be satisfied.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

The girl was crying in the bathroom when I came in.
“Whatever he did, he ain’t worth it, honey.”
She straightened and composed herself. “It isn’t like that,” the girl said.
“Of course not.” I pulled a wipe from my purse. “Let’s fix your makeup.” When I pulled out the switchblade, she gasped.
“Sometimes a sharp line is best for mascara,” I said. I pressed the flat of the blade against my cheek and used the spine as a straight edge. I set it down on the counter.
I guess I forgot to ask for the knife back. Oh well.\

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

Huddled in our makeshift camp at the base of the valley, we heard trickling water for the first time in years. We searched and found a little pool collecting a rivulet flowing off a high mountain. We drank our fill.
I climbed to the summit and was amazed by what I found.
The gateway opened to another, better world. On the other side, a stream flowed out of a grassy field. I felt the breeze on my face and heard actual birdsong. I smelled the fresh air.
I wandered through, enraptured. The soldiers waited for me just out of sight.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

The goddess looked out over the battlefield and wept. Bodies from her army and her brothers littered the field.
The battle had been intoxicating. She rode out in her shining armor and drank in worship. Now that it was over, and those worshipers lay dead, the high had faded.
“Let it go,” her brother said, their argument already forgotten. “They’re mortal. Dying is what they do.”
Poets said that flowers grew where the gods shed blood. She waived a hand, and crimson blossoms sprang up to cover the corpses. This blood belonged to her, and she would repay her debt.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

Stilttown stood in the middle of desolation. When the world was dying, they took their supplies and sheet metal walls and built upward, securing all the lumber they could before the forest burned. They watched the End of the World from on high, believing that it could not reach them.
When the refugees came after, they still sat and watched, condemning them to die.
When I came to Stilttown, I called up. They still refused my entry. So I took out my solar-powered electric chainsaw, a valuable relic of the old days, and showed them that no perch is inviolable.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

The Inter-County Varsity Basketball Tournament was the most important sporting event of the year, and Hillcrest Private School always won. But this year, we had an ace up our sleeve.
“What is that?” The River Heights coach demanded, pointing at one of my players.
“Transfer student.”
“That is not a transfer student!” he pointed to the twenty-foot tall, three-skulled being hovering above the court on ebon wings.
“That’s Luci,” I said.
“You Lowville Public Highschool losers won’t get away with this!” He shouted.
“Hey, there ain’t no rule that says a demon lord of the inner pit can’t play basketball!”

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

Sponsored Content

He exited superluminal space discombobulated, but his ship’s medical computer detected no injuries. He had done the impossible, traveling farther and faster than any human before him. And he returned to tell the tale.
Earth was just as beautiful as when he left, but that was understandable. A two-week superluminal trip for him equated to two years of Earth time.
He brought up his communications hub to brag about his accomplishment. But as he logged into Earth’s network, he felt a rising panic. His social media feeds were gone, decimated in his absence. He wept for all the lost memes.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

She was the best weaver in Atlantis and knew all the secrets of her ancient art. She knew how to treat the seaweed fibers to make them strong and light and the correct method for curving fish spines.
But nobody cared about the old ways anymore. The crowd passed over her baskets in the market and favored cheap, mass-produced crap that barely lasted a season before breaking.
If baskets were out, she found new uses for her skills. She used them to create a new building material that was strong, light, and sustainable.
She would show them who was useless.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!

His grandfather taught him the prayer but didn’t tell him what the words meant or what language they were. He said it was an Orison, something to say in times of trouble or when you were looking for divine protection.
He whispered it over his grandfather’s casket and in the nursery after his son was born. He recited them on the ship as they left Earth for the last time.
On a distant planet, under a strange Sun, he taught the words to his granddaughter. He never learned what they meant, but it was enough that he passed them on.

Thanks for reading! You can support me and find links to all my other work via my Linktree!