Hugh J. O'Donnell

The elders said that the town’s prosperity, and its doom, came from the lake. There was a spirit living there who blessed the town with endless clean water, but also drowned the unwary. They built a shrine to appease her and regularly held rites and festivals in her honor.
The spirit in the lake heard the commotion and was fascinated by the strange creatures living beyond the barrier she couldn’t pass.
She tried to make contact, but each attempt met with failure when the thrashing creatures stopped moving.
Someday she would get it right. She just had to keep trying.

“A Private Lake” by MSVG is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

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

There are places where the building blocks of creation, the four elements, can be accessed: Underground coal fires that have burned for hundreds of years, blue holes that go on forever, windstorms that never dissipate, and mountains that jut from the ground like a jagged tooth.
I stood on the peak and cast the spell. The spell was easier here, almost eager, as the offering disintegrated and a boulder detached itself and rose up on a crude pair of legs, then bowed.
The bargain was complete, but little did I know what the elemental would expect from me in return.

“Arctic Mountains” by Polar Cruises is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

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

When the ogre fell from his horse and broke his leg he expected to die, as was the way of the world.
Instead, a human boy found him, he dragged him back to his own village. The humans came out to finish him off, but the boy did some magic, and they carried him to a hut at the edge of town.
Their healer set his broken leg, and the boy brought the ogre food. He didn’t understand. He’d before never seen mercy or kindness.
After he recovered, the ogre returned to his own people, bringing strange ideas with him.

“Kindlifresserbrunnen Ogre Fountain in Bern Switzerland by Robbie Conceptuel” by Conceptuel is marked with CC0 1.0.

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

It’s one of those coffee shops that you see and then pass by. It is the kind of place that’s never busy but always manages to stay in business.
Everybody knows that you can’t eat or drink anything you find in Fairyland, or else you’ll be stuck there forever. Few people consider that it works both ways. When the Fair Folk travel, they need a place where they can stop in for a quick bite and a hot cup of ambrosia.
Some peoples have embassies. For the Fey, their toe-holds in other realms always come with a cup of tea.

“Turkish tea time” by henribergius is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.

My very short story collection, The Mountain’s Shadow is available now from Amazon and Smashwords!

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

The forest kept secrets.
Some were happy, the love and wishes of every pair of initials carved into a tree, and some were not. The forest remembered the last thoughts of every person who entered and never came out again.
She searched for the Heart of the Forest, the place where the secrets were kept. She started looking when she was a small child and spent her life hiking hidden paths.
She was an old woman when she finally found it.
“Why did it take me so long?” She asked the Heart.
“You weren’t ready to be kept,” it whispered.

“ANF Old-Growth Forest (1)” by Nicholas is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

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

When intelligent life, in all its strangeness and complexity, began to spread throughout the galaxy civilizations came into conflict with one another. But most civilizations wanted to coexist in peace with one another.
The Symposium was constructed to be a place of learning, harmony and peaceful exchange. It was a beautiful grand station, positioned so that it was equidistant from every participating world. This meant that it was actually pretty far from any individual system.
Over time, being named Cultural Representative became a high honor reserved for each planet’s most insufferable academics. The cultural exchange was vigorous, but not harmonious.

“Hubble Sees a Supermassive and Super-hungry Galaxy” by NASA Goddard Photo and Video is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

My very short story collection, The Mountain’s Shadow is available now from Amazon and Smashwords!

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

The old crabapple tree was little more than a shrub, but every fall it dropped bushels of the sour little fruits.
As a child, he had always disliked the tree. It made skeletal, grasping shadows in the walls of his bedroom, and it was always his job to gather up the rotting fruit before they damaged the lawn.
There was a bad winter the year he went away to college. He came home to find a jagged stump where the crabapple tree had been.
He searched for hours until he found a single looked-over fruit and carefully saved the seeds.

“Crabapple in Fresh Snow” by XXPepper is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

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

He discovered the obscure creature in a book, and knew instantly that it would make him rich. The almiraj was a small, rabbit-like creature with a single pearlescent horn like a unicorn.
He bet the rodents would be easier to catch than their equine cousins, and chartered a ship to the distant, windswept island they inhabited. He was already planing on how he would spend his wealth after selling the fake unicorn horns.
Unfortunately, the almiraj were actually relatives of the mongoose, and shared their island home with a species of huge, venomous serpent that his book failed to mention.

“Al-Miraj and Serpent from Walters Manuscript” by Zakariya ibn Muhammad Qazwini is marked with CC0 1.0.

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

The witch lived in a chicken-legged hut, and while she would fly when she needed to be somewhere, the hut could be spotted wandering the hills, particularly on dark, rainy nights.
Sightings of the hut continued even after rumors of the witch’s death. With each passing year, the hut’s siding became more dilapidated and lichen-encrusted.
Adventurers came to slay the hut after it started attacking cabins in what was now considered its territory.
There are many different spells to bring objects to life, and their shape dictates their behavior. The hut was just looking for a shed to mate with.

“The House of Baba Yaga 2” by Ivano Giambattista is marked with CC0 1.0.

My very short story collection, The Mountain’s Shadow is available now from Amazon and Smashwords!

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

When the Paladin found himself excommunicated, he couldn’t believe it. His powers came from his god, not men.
But when he prayed at the next sunrise, he felt no presence of the divine. He was abandoned, alone. His enemies had spoken, and his god obeyed.
He didn’t know what to do. The revelation of his smallness unnerved him, and he had dedicated his life to his office.
Finally, he accepted the rebuke as a punishment for his pride, and worked to fulfill his vows without title or powers. A Paladin was not what you were, it was what you did.

“Tong, St. Bartholomew’s Church, The ‘Door of Excommunication’ – geograph.org.uk – 5756433” by Michael Garlick is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.

Everyday Drabbles is now on Patreon! Join the free feed to get stories in your email inbox, or support at $1 or more to get fun perks!

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