Hugh J. O'Donnell

The Gingerbread Man was getting older. He didn’t want to admit it, but he could feel it in his crumb.
He wasn’t as fast as he used to be. His frosting wasn’t as soft as it once was, and he’d lost a gumdrop button somewhere.
He pushed himself, trying to make his body believe he was only as stale as he felt. He heard a sharp snap, and felt his leg crumble underneath him.
The baker was able to save the leg with quick application of royal icing, but the Gingerbread Man would have to walk with a candy cane.

“Homemade gingerbread man” by Ross Dunn is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.

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

The maiden stood awkwardly in the doorway, as though she were waiting for someone. He hoped that it wasn’t him, although she was very pretty.
He was busy enough with his work, and the holidays always made everything so much more hectic. He just didn’t have time for anything else, particularly not romance.
But he was no coward. She smiled as he approached, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind an ear.
“I’m standing under the mistletoe,” she said, pointing up.
“Well, that’s me stuck then,” he said.
As they kissed, Baldr knew she would be the death of him.

“mistletoe” by DafneCholet is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

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

When the Cleric slipped and broke her leg, the rest of the party panicked for a minute. It was a bad break. You could see the shattered bone beneath her skin.
The Thief had checked twice for traps, declared it safe, and then she took a skid on wet stone.
We all relied on her for healing, and none of us knew what to do when she was the one who needed help. We always just assumed she would be alright.
As we slung together a liter to get her back to civilization, I decided to take first aid training.

“Dungeon” by Dave Hamster is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

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

When the blight came, we burned our crops. It would be a hard winter, but hunger was better than what became of you from eating the strange fungus.
That winter, we rationed our stores, trying to make them last. But every day they dwindled, and we knew it wouldn’t be enough.
By Solstice we were trapped inside, buried by the driving snow. We huddled in the dark and listened to the howling wind and other things outside: Our neighbors, gone made or worse from eating tainted grain.
I thanked God we burned our harvest.
Then I heard my wife chewing.

“ergot” by Stiller Beobachter is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

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

After the long drought, the townsfolk living in the valley were happy for a little rain. But as it ceaselessly fell, their world turned gray and damp.
The rain kept falling, turning the dust to mud that slid down the hills and covered everything. It filled the lakes and rivers and burst their banks.
The townsfolk called for help. They threw together sandbag berms and evacuated the lowest areas. As the floodwaters rose higher, they retreated to their roofs, watching the brown water churn beneath them.
When nobody came to save them, they marshaled their boats and saved each other.

“Flood of June 2006” by marnanel 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 © 2024 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 

When she arrived, the ranger warned her that the trail behind the cabin was dangerous.
She spent the whole trip heeding his advice. But the trail sat like a stone in her mind. On the last day of her trip, she packed a bag with water, snacks and other supplies. She set out.
The trail was steep, and long, and there weren’t any rest stops, but the hills were beautiful, and the trees eventually gave way to a hilltop clearing with a stunning view. She watched the afternoon sun sink over the valley and knew she’d made the right call.

“Grand Canyon National Park Clear Creek Trail 2911a” by Grand Canyon NPS 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 © 2024 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 

The peace conference was held in Jotunheim.
Eager to impress, the Frost Giants set the table up in their most picturesque, snow-covered forest. They filled it with ice crystal chandeliers lit with a thousand candles. Then the guests arrived.
The Elves complained that the site was too cold. The Humans that it was too cramped, and the Dwarves that it was too bright.
This is historically known as the beginning of the Great Alliance. History also records the deaths of the lead ambassadors, and the newborn alliance’s war against the Giants.
In Jotunheim, it’s called “The Meeting of the Whiners.”

“Winter stuff” by ressaure 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 © 2024 by Hugh J. O’Donnell is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0