Hugh J. O'Donnell

The hellhound prowled the halls of its abyssal home, leaving smoldering footprint that smelled of brimstone.
The damned watched the creature pass warily. A few quaked and hid. But there was always one who would run, overcome with terror. He chased them down with sharp fangs and fiery breath. He fetched the shredded soul back and put it where it belonged, whiplike tail wagging.
There was a contradiction deep in the hellhound’s heart. All dogs are good dogs, even him.
But he decided long ago it was better to be a good boy in Hell than a lapdog in Heaven.

Hellhound by N Stjerma 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 

The jester sat at the foot of the throne, ready to alleviate His Majesty’s woes with a cleverly worded quip or jape. He sat on the steps as the king met with messengers, petitioners, and even other heads of state, watching to see when a well-executed pratfall or tumble would lighten the mood.
Late into the night, the jester would hone his skills, writing down the best jokes for the approval of the seneschal.
The seneschal made careful study of the jester’s submissions. He’d made sure the boy was sharp and observant. And the seneschal made notes of his own.

“Jester- Joker Card” by GoShows 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 psychic detective had his own struggling agency. He was a joke among ‘serious’ law enforcement, but he had a surprisingly high success rate.
When a client came in, he’d know immediately if he should take their case. He specialized in violent crimes because they gave him a stronger impression.
He would visit crime scenes and wandered around. He didn’t look for clues, but occasionally stumbled across things the police missed.
Then he would go home and go to sleep, reconstructing the events in his dreams.
It would be a perfect system if he didn’t wake up covered in blood.

“Psychic” by Gamma Man 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 

When the company announced a new round of layoffs, Roma wasn’t worried. It was true, her last few quarters had been a bit rough, but she’d been with the company forever, and expected that her seniority would carry her through, just like it had before.
But when she was called into a meeting with the Transition team, she started to get nervous. She sat in front of the pair, with their pale makeup and black dresses, as they talked about workforce reductions and belt tightening, and knew the axe was falling.
But Roma never expected to be sacked by goths.

“After Layoff – Empty” by texas_mustang 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 

He’d been a star. A famous gourmand whose impeccable taste made him a celebrity. But time had moved on.
To stay relevant, he listened to his remaining fans. They told him it was the public who was wrong, seduced by foreign influencers and trendy cuisine.
He started pushing traditional fare and comfort food. It wasn’t political, he said, just good taste. The new tastemakers faded from the spotlight and he was on top again.
But it was a hollow victory. His favorite restaurants had closed. The markets stopped carrying fresh and interesting ingredients.
The spice had gone from the world.

“<div class=’fn’> Chef’s hat</div>” by David Ring 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 

She had given herself to the swamp, and the swamp had given back in exchange. She still occasionally had to deal with civilization, such as the travelers who claimed they were just passing through.
Their gear and weapons told her a different story.
There’s always someone so afraid of a strange old woman that they’d pay to have her removed. But she was a part of the swamp now. They couldn’t kill her and make it stick.
She cackled as she promised them safe passage. The swamp would do its work for her, and she would grow on the rot.

“Somewhere In The Swamps of Jersey” by James Loesch 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 

Toppo the octopus was born at the aquarium. Every day she performed for the amusement of the humans. She did little tricks for the staff, and they fed her and kept her healthy. She had a comfortable existence. But every night, she dreamed.
She dreamed of The Ocean, and storms with towering waves. She dreamt of towering over wooden ships, splintering them with mighty arms. In Toppo’s dreams, she was a kraken.
She heard the guides say all water flowed back to the sea. She wondered.
One day, she spotted a loose grate outside her tank, and took her chance.

“Octopus” by NOAA Ocean Exploration & Research 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 portrait was an instant sensation. Not only was the composition notable, but the enigmatic expression on the model’s face arrested the attention of critics and patrons alike.
The artist, knowing his business, let the public debate its meaning themselves. The figure was called alternately a temptress, a saint, and a harridan. She remained a figure of fascination for decades.
In the stuffy flophouse the artist used as a studio, the model sat on her cushions and endured hours of torturous discomfort as he made minuscule changes to his painting. She tried not to let it show on her face.

Woman With Hair Knots, by Paul Gauguin, is in the Public Domain, and shared through WIkimedia Commons.

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 her father died, she transformed herself into a clawed crystal demon; a goddess in pursuit of revenge. Those close to her turned away in horror, claiming that she had forsaken her humanity.
Being torn between her desires and her responsibilities, she would have turned into a monster anyway, even if she looked the same on the outside. So she embraced the worst of her father’s research and became the monster he always wanted.
It was only later, after she’d emerged from the blood and horror, that she could look at herself and embrace what she always needed to be.

CLAW by Volpin Props is licensed under CC-BY-NC-ND 2.0.

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

Everyday Drabbles © 2024 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0