Hugh J. O'Donnell

The traveling preacher set up his tent on the edge of town, so white and clean in the dust that you’d think it fell from Heaven.
He papered the town with flyers for the revival, spending extra effort around the saloons, brothels, and gambling halls. He paid the local children a few pennies to keep them pasted up.
That Sunday, the whole town attended as he preached hellfire and brimstone. He surveyed the crowd and picked out the most likely recruits.
The next world was all well and good, but he needed a crew for a job for this one.

“Danish Tent Revival” by celesteh is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

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

The wicked queen gazed into her magic mirror and intoned the spell. “Who is the fairest of them all?”
The mirror was uncharacteristically silent, but it showed her own face, so she was pleased. The queen was called away on court business, and she was occupied for some time.
She didn’t notice anything amiss until the next time the mirror failed to respond to her. Magical testing confirmed that her mirror had been replaced by a mundane copy.
After weeks of searching, but she eventually found it in a guest bathroom.
It was the greatest prank her stepdaughter ever pulled.

“Magic Mirror Realm” by HarshLight is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

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

“You know there’s dangerous animals out in that there swamp,” the guy behind the rental office said, holding up the keys to the boat.
“I know. I’ll avoid the snakes and gators.”
“And the frogs,” he said.
“The frogs?” I almost laughed. But he looked deadly serious.
“I don’t know what it is. Something in the water maybe. But they turned mean. You steer clear of ‘em.”
I nodded and took the keys. He must’ve been joking.
But as we took the boat out among the lily pads, I heard a chorus of angry croaks. It was already too late.

“interrupted – Rough-skinned Bush Frog” by vipin baliga is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

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

Dredger lived on the water, and made his living with his nets and pails. He found things that other people lost.
Fine folks might complain about the mud, or the smell, but they were plenty polite when they needed a dropped ring or a lost wallet.
He found lost items, discreetly, and then the fine folks who lived higher up the banks would pay him well for the service before going away again.
They knew Dredger found all kinds of things in the mud and water, and all of those fine folks had secrets that they wanted to stay lost.

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

After the time travelers prevented the End of the World, the robot powered on in his accustomed future, with no evidence that anything strange had occurred save for the data in his memory banks.
Without proof of their adventures, they might as well have been a glitch in his core processor. He stayed silent, and remained watchful. He considered it his last duty to his comrades, scattered across time.
His fellow robots had gone wrong in the post-apocalypse. Without the calamity, he didn’t know if they would still revolt. But he would protect the world, even if he was alone.

“robots!” by joyquality is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0.

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

The Last Train doesn’t look unusual. It has the same faded paint and the same slightly threadbare blue seats. And it has a driver who’s been on this route for decades. But the Last Train goes to the Land of the Dead.
The station at the end of the line looks the same too, although maybe the lights are a little brighter. He’s never worked up the nerve to step out of his cab.
He doesn’t plan on retiring. One day he’ll exit the train and climb the stairs at the end of the platform to see where they lead.

“Bullet Train” by objectfox is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

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

The victim of tragic circumstances, the child was raised by wolves.
Eventually, he was found and brought back to civilization, kicking and screaming to be returned to his adopted family. Even after he learned how to speak like a human he could never fully articulate the bond he had with the pack, and the ache in his heart caused by their separation.
He feared that his pack had been killed until he saw a familiar wolf in a zoo, who also recognized him. After an awkward reunion through a pane of reinforced glass, he began working on the prison break.

“Wolf” by Accretion Disc is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

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

The little tribe of humans struggled to survive in their environment. They hunted and gathered and occasionally skirmished with other people, who were stronger, but not as tenacious as they were.
Their leader was a strong woman, and she knew the immutable rules of the world. Fight and live, lose and die.
But every night she dreamed of a future where the rules were different. She dreamed of a world where her progeny were a multitude, and they lived in comfort.
That world was not the world. She took up her club and fought to make that future a reality.

“Poterie neolithic” by No machine-readable author provided. Calame assumed (based on copyright claims). is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0.

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

He traveled the world, cataloging everything he saw. He had adventures and discovered hidden treasures while the rest of the world was fighting a terrible war.
People said he was putting his own profit ahead his duty. He didn’t care much about his reputation. He was fighting his own war in his own way.
He rescued prisoners and uncovered rare tomes and strange artifacts, keeping them out of the hands of the enemy, always in hot pursuit.
He knew his contributions might not amount to much, but he thought that next discovery might be the one to change the world.

“Treasure Chest” by TommyClicks 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