Hugh J. O'Donnell

The acolyte looked up at the lectern and the heavy, gilded tome that rested upon it. Inside were the incantations and secret formulae to summon and command the most puissant beings known to exist.
The book contained unstoppable power that their order could use to reshape the world, both figuratively and literally. But such power remained locked away in a book that could only be opened and read by their leader.
She vowed that one day she would wield that power.
Decades later, the abbess laid her aged hand upon the grimoire and finally understood why it should remain shut.

“Illuminated Manuscript, Bible (part), Blind-stamped binding, Walters Manuscript W.805, Upper board outside” by Walters Art Museum Illuminated Manuscripts is marked with CC0 1.0.

Everyday Drabbles © 2025 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

I arrived in Armstrong City on Luna just in time for the famous Shakespeare Festival. But as I left my hotel and ventured into the network of underground passages that made up the city, I soon found myself hopelessly lost.
Flummoxed, I found a cyborg standing at an intersection and asked for directions.
“Excuse me,” I said. “Could you direct me to the Selenium Theatre?”
They looked up, their eye lenses flashing. “Blow it out your organic ass, old man.”
I left in a huff. I came to the Moon to watch Shakespeare, not get harassed by some rude mechanical.

“moon” by Slideshow Bruce is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Everyday Drabbles © 2025 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

I found the lollipop at the bottom of the a bag of Halloween candy. The translucent spun sugar orb swirled like a rainbow gas giant.
It was too beautiful to eat. I knew it would just taste like fruit punch and the magic would be dispelled.
I kept the lollipop. When I went away to culinary school, it stayed hidden in a desk drawer. After I graduated, I had it framed.
When I opened my own bakery, my husband bought a bag of them for the opening.
That lollipop didn’t taste as magical as it looked, but it was sweet.

“Lollipop” by José Carlos Cortizo Pérez is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Everyday Drabbles © 2025 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 

I stood in the airlock, waiting for the lights to cycle to green. When the great doors opened, I let the pressure push me out into the vacuum.
My baby was waiting for me. The fighter didn’t look so bad, she just needed a little love to get back in the fight. I pulled a velcro-covered wrench from my belt and got to work.
When I was done, I slapped the hull and pushed away. The pilot lit the engines and headed back into the storm of laser fire. I hoped he wouldn’t do anything else stupid to my baby.

“Reconfiguring the Station” by NASA Goddard Photo and Video is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Everyday Drabbles © 2025 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 

The Locktender’s Daughter lived in a little house alongside the canal with her father and assisted him with his work.
She was young and beautiful, and was the object of hopeful affection of many of the wild canallers as they waited for the the lock to fill or empty.
The boatmen were large and unsavory, and many in the town took the man to task for not being more protective of the girl. But she could handle herself.
When her wit or charm failed, she could rely on the great boathook she used to open and close the canal gates.

“20150829 31 Flight of Five Erie Canal Locks, Lockport, New York” by davidwilson1949 is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Everyday Drabbles © 2025 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 

For centuries, the other Elemental Schools mocked the Water Mages, saying they were only useful for running their baths and keeping their drinks cool.
The Hydromancers bore these insults with a placid demeanor. They wielded a power too subtle and dangerous to be displayed openly.
One day, their greatest prodigy lost her temper and set a single drop of water in an offending Earth Mage’s lungs. She demanded an apology while he gasped for air.
The student was nearly expelled, but her elders had to admit the other three schools treated them with a good deal more respect after that.

“Single egg shaped water droplet” by Luke Peterson Photography is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Everyday Drabbles © 2025 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 

When the pirate ship appeared, the crew prepared to repel boarders. The captain rubbed hands together solicitously and begged my assistance as a traveling mage. He couldn’t afford me, but I made an exception.
As the ship drew alongside, a cry went up among the superstitious defenders. The derelict vessel was crawling with skeletal horrors!
While the crew panicked, I looked for the necromancer. He was standing on the rotted forecastle, directing his puppets. I called forth a great wave and swamped the ship, knocking the pirates into the water.
Undead pirates are terrible to behold, but skeletons can’t swim.

“Pirate” by ~Sincere Stock~ is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Everyday Drabbles © 2025 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 

The old lot had stood empty for years. It used to be a surviving patch of woods between the subdivisions, but the land was eventually cleared and leveled.
But nothing was ever built on it. Some of the developers had financial or legal troubles, other purchasers just felt so uncomfortable on the land that they sold it off after an on-site inspection.
The lot dreamed of haunted houses with shutters that creaked in the wind and porches that sagged like a disapproving frown. It could manage a mournful wail if the wind was just right.
For now, the lot waited.

“Empty Lot in Portland, OR” by danxoneil is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

Everyday Drabbles © 2025 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 

When the famous spy and cryptographer passed away, they found a book of handwritten notes in his kitchen. It was his last gift to the world.
Codebreakers spent years poring over the notes online and arguing with each other about cyphers in forums, but couldn’t make heads or tails of the hidden meaning that was surely left in the text somewhere. When the world’s greatest cryptographers couldn’t solve the puzzle, they declared it a hoax.
In truth, there was no hidden code in the notebook. The old man had merely wanted to share his award-winning scone recipes with the world.

“Sugar cakes in the recipe books of Margaret Home Countess of Moray” by Unoquha is marked with CC0 1.0.

Everyday Drabbles © 2025 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0