Hugh J. O'Donnell

In a world of superheroes, she discovered she had the power to know the future. But despite her efforts, she couldn’t change it, or even tell another soul. Every time she tried, Fate would intervene.
She tried to write down what would happen, but the predictions all came out as nonsense. She couldn’t even keep a calendar.
Unable to become a prophet, she had to come up with a new plan. She studied crisis management, got her EMT certification, and memorized the fastest routes through the city.
If she couldn’t prevent the future, she decided to rise to meet it.

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When everyone went into quarantine, he started building little robots. He would spend his weekends clipping out the parts and fitting them together while listening to his favorite records and sipping tea. He found it a very relaxing way to spend his time when he couldn’t leave the house.
The finished products were only about six inches tall, but exquisitely detailed. He posted pictures of his results online to great acclaim.
“Where do you get your model kits,” one friend asked him in a private message.
“What’s a model kit?” He asked, puzzled, as he charged up another laser cannon.

From an early age, he trained to serve The Chosen One. The prophecy was quite specific. The prince would do great things, and he would need a valet that would support him no matter what the task.
Every village in the kingdom sent their sons to academy to compete for the honor. And somehow he was selected.
Since then, he spent every waking moment with the prince, in lessons and training. The prince wasn’t what he expected, though. He was burnish, lazy, and honestly a bit dim.
But he would be with him to the end. Because he’d been chosen.

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“I hear you’re working on a self-portrait.”
The sculpture looked momentarily embarrassed, then composed himself. “Yes, would you like to see it?”
We walked to the studio and he uncovered the piece. It was carved from a single piece of stone, and was a body with two torsos, like a figure on a playing card. The top bust was posing with hands joined above its head, while the bottom figure held a chisel to its chest. Both faces were a strikingly accurate likeness.
“I call it ‘Vision and Vanity.”
“I see you’ve given yourself rock-hard abs there.”
He shrugged. “Naturally.”

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She climbed the steps in the dark. Once, it had been a grand temple. All that remained were a few crumbling steps and a platform open to the stars.
As the sky lightened, she set down a golden bowl, filled it with water, and chanted. She felt exposed and afraid.
The first rays of sunlight hit the bowl, filling it with an unearthly glow. The reflection that stared back wasn’t her own, but it smiled warmly at her. She was filled with a sense of peace.
The invaders had torn down the temple, but the old gods hadn’t been forgotten.

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She stood on the beach and stuck one delicate foot out towards the approaching tide.
She braced for the icy shock of the cold water rushing over her toes.
It never came. She moved closer, her heels sinking into the wet sand, and tried again.
She heard the rush of the water all around her, and yet, she was dry. The water parted for her.
She stood, fascinated, as the sea flowed around her.
She took another step forward, and the water retreated, bending away from her like a bowstring. She kept walking, and the sea never closed over her.

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The Elves were leaving. They marched to their graceful ships, slowly and gracefully, the last remnants of a fallen age. They would soon sail west, never to return.
As they marched, they spoke among themselves about how gloomy the land had become, now that their time was over. They mourned the passing of Light and Beauty, and wept for the Old Days that Would Never Come Again.
The Dwarves tossed rocks after them to hurry them along. They remembered how the Elves had forced their ancestors underground, long ago. They were eager to reclaim their homeland once and for all.

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The escape pod crashed on a strange planet. He was in one piece, but all of the pod’s systems were offline. He couldn’t pull up telemetry, navigation, or external sensors.
Even the craft’s single porthole come to rest face down, so he couldn’t even look out and see where the environment. He didn’t know where he was, how long he’d been in suspension, or if the area he’d landed in was even habitable. All he had to go by was the pull of gravity and the faint howl of the wind.
He took a breath, and popped open the hatch.

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