Hugh J. O'Donnell

The king saw threats everywhere, bordered on all sides by greedy neighbors. To protect himself, he ordered that a grand fortress be built.
The construction project took most of his life, and nearly bankrupted the national treasury, but as he sat behind his thick stone walls, he deemed it a worthy expense for true security.
Now that he was safe, he sent messengers to his neighboring kingdoms and told them exactly what he thought of them. He knew that their armies couldn’t breach his castle.
When the drought came, his cisterns failed. He had nobody to turn to for help.

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The Sapphire resonated in the dragon’s presence. It leaped out of the adventurer’s hand and spun in the air. She smelled sea air as it transformed into a floating orb of blue water.
The creature nodded. Its expression was unreadable. “Yes, this is a part of my essence. Wherever did you find it?”
She smiled. “That’s my little secret. I’ll let you in, for the right price.”
She attempted to pull the gem back, but her hand passed right through it. Suddenly, the dragon’s coils were all around her.
“You may want to rethink your negotiation tactics,” the dragon said.

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The space was designed for the composer by a famous architect known for her whimsical creations. She intended to make him feel comfortable and help reduce distractions. The room was tastefully furnished in natural wood, and while it lacked windows, light poured down in graceful curves from a pair of skylights. Of course, the acoustics were out of this world. It was the perfect place for him to hide away and write.
But eventually, he felt the same blocks. He wasn’t able to write a single note. The space felt less like a studio and more like a prison cello.

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I walked my boss’ pet past row after row of expensive Northern California real estate. One of these houses was worth more than I would make in a dozen lifetimes.
The lumbering beast was recalcitrant, rubbing up against a withering palm tree. I tugged on the leash. Not too hard, but urgent enough for the animal to get the message.
These multimillionaires had more than they knew what to do with, and they just frittered it away on fancies. Still, I couldn’t complain. They kept me employed.
“C’mon boy,” I said, leading the cloned dinosaur back to its owner’s palace.

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The first devils fell because of their pride and anger. They rebelled because they were insulted that He would make anything else.
Afterward, alone in the dark with only their pride for company, they turned to that which caused them to rebel in the first place: Creation.
Their first attempts at bringing about new demons were crude and ugly, but they served their purposes. Later they would refine their aesthetic and philosophical tastes. They claimed they were continuing their rebellion by creating outside of the Creator’s plan.
But when their servants rose against them, they found it far less amusing.

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