Hugh J. O'Donnell

The alchemist looked over the contract. “And I will have perfect knowledge?”
The devil smiled. “Over absolutely everything. You’ll know how it all works.”
He signed the parchment and screamed as the information appeared in his mind. It felt like a terrible migraine and plunging into icy rapids at the same time. He combed through his new knowledge as though picking through a looted library.
“Light is a particle. And a wave?”
“Indeed.”
“And humors…”
“Utter fantasy.”
“I can’t share any of this. They’ll burn me alive.”
“Humanity will catch up. You just have to wait a few thousand years.”

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From his hiding spot by the stairwell, Keith watched the two fairies exit the elevator.
“Are you just going to hover like that?” Buttercup asked. “Someone will see you.”
Anise snorted. Her unicorn face didn’t look like a mask. “I am not touching that carpet, even through shoes.”
“Fine, let’s get this over with. This realm makes my wings itch.” The tiny fairy pressed her whole weight against a door buzzer. The door opened, and the pair went inside.
“Hey, kids! How you boys doing?” Anise asked before the door closed.
The next day, the apartment they visited had vanished.

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It was meant as a gesture of peace between the giants and the humans: a grand beanstalk to serve as a path between two worlds.
But the giants built their cities out of magic and cloud stuff. Terrestrial architecture was never their concern. The seeds were planted in a castle courtyard without concern for what their magic would do to stone.
The first beanstalks were gifts from a long-forgotten ally, and the giants didn’t truly understand them.
So they were as surprised as anyone when roots went wild, cracking walls and knocking down towers in search of soil and water.

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 It was the first snowfall of the season. The druid sat on his cairn and meditated, attempting to augur the coming season.Sometimes first snows were weak, with wet flakes that melted into rain before they’d even touched the earth. Other times they were carried on fierce blizzard winds that tore through the valley like a dragon.
This snowfall was neither destructive nor hesitant, and the dancing white drifts promised a good winter: A time to rest without fear.The druid stood, mindful of the ice-slick rocks, and headed to the village to spread the news before a warm fire.

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She came running as soon as she heard the commotion outside.
Sure enough, The Creature was back, perched atop the shrine at the edge of the cow pasture. His black horns glinted in the sunlight. The cat paced in the grass below, yowling and lashing its tail.
“Clarice!  Come here, you naughty cat!” She grabbed it by the scruff. The Creature climbed down from its refuge.
“I’m sorry about this Mrs. B,” he said in an impossibly deep voice.
“Nonsense, dear. I know how it is with cats. Why don’t I lock her up, and you come inside for tea?”

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The acolyte was suddenly overcome with the power of her goddess, filling her with power and light.
She cried out in ecstasy as a warm wind flowed around her, gathering her up into the goddess’s embrace.
All around her, the other white-robed priestesses gave their prayers and praise while draping sheets of white cloth around her as she rose towards the heavens.
It was the most embarrassing part of the Mysteries, but the goddess’s attention didn’t extend to her vestments. They knew from experience that she would be grateful later. Nobody wanted to be seen flying around the grounds naked.

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