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Moving Paid Stories to Itch.io!
7 months ago
https://denora-husky.itch.io/ is going to be the new home to all of my paid stories! The four that were on my Gumroad are now for sale over there, and new stories will be posted only on my itch.io.
I will leave up my Gumroad account for another day or two, and then it will be deleted.
I will leave up my Gumroad account for another day or two, and then it will be deleted.
Thursday, November 23rd, 1989
"We understand, Comrade Director, that when it comes to
the Tunguskan and her unique design: deletion is wholly
permanent. Addition...well, that is never quite complete.
What comes of her novel purpose is yet to be seen."
He turned to the Kodakchrome of Josef Stalin, removed
unceremoniously from the Politburo wall barely two weeks
beforehand, giving it a wholly dignified middle finger, "but
in the end, we understood that no matter what Comrade
Alara did or did not, she was right, so it then solely took a
monstrum in body with moral simplicity and reckon to wake
us all up with her titan footfalls."
"Denora Alara was perfect for the job, and we were right
about that, at least."
He ashed off his second English cigarello, one of very many
things notably once forbidden therein the Kremlin's chambers,
unless you could prove and provide deniability for contraband.
"The system cannot define what those inside it means if it can't
understand the nature of the humanity it serves. Breaking free
of that, no matter what it did to the world at large, did not only
save Russia and everyone we love who remains post her Divine
Doggess' rampage, the noble savage who was perfectly on the
nose with her steps," he stared the painting down; once again,
briefly.
"But she showed a world that the maladaptive systems murdering
it from within since the Second Industrial Revolution were no less the
chains our great-grandparents might be bound to in a gulag; before
that, in a pit of lime where nothing would be found after the work of
cold knives and frozen demons was done."
"The chains always have a wonderful song to sing, just to get you
close enough to lock you in place, convinced that you were born
to their bondage. Very few things can break a chain like that: but
the Comrade, the Tunguskan! ah, she embraced novelty, and bore
it forth, the White Wolf, noble Husky-Patriot and Mother, Sister and
soldier of the Workers and the People. The Shieldmate!"
"She's a foehammer who knew exactly what a hammer does best:
she broke things, the right things. Told them to drop the manacles,
their nastiness, and themselves from all of us and never return."
"And she found the courage to break her own chains, refuse all of
those delusions and let what she did not need to bear fall away. It will
take a while, but the world will know her heroism, and how right she
was."
He looked down the hallway, to a strangely, human-sized ensconse
on a massive wall that looked like something vast, like a storage vault
could, almost certainly must be behind it.
Former Brigadier Denora Alara, once of the Imperial Army, honorably
discharged by NATO and Russian pardon, focused on her Commonplace
Book, handwriting- left-handed, something else no-one ever broke from
her, given how people treated southpaws even today- with a Staedtler
lead pointer designed for a novel being her size; it was roughly the length
of a Saturn-V MK-II fuel tank- 130 metres from clutch tip to barreltop- and
weighed around 270,000 pounds without a 2mm lead fitted within.
She barely needed to sleep; that was part of her enhancility, but made
sure she took care- the world did not need of her a monster anymore,
not right now. She would be less a warrior and more a worker now, since
things had changed, and self-care needed. "I don't need to be a monster
if I have better things to do," she said, softly in her thunderous bass, "or
people to be, and see."
She wrote, 'I am only a storyteller, so I will tell you a story,' followed by
'Here is a stranger in a strange land, who is not of this place; exiled of a
homeland that was theirs'. And she smiled, staring lovingly at the photo
on her custom-lathed working desk. Roxanne deBois looked back, a frozen
smile in the developed photo, but she was waiting for her brilliant, smooshy
husky-doggess across the watercourse. They had a great lot of time left, once
their sentences were completed.
So for now, Denora Alara has a lot of dutiful writing to do. 'The future is
not yet written, for not all the storytellers have yet been born to starlight
and noble gases, and that future is not yet set. There is no fate but a path
we choose to set our feet upon, together."
"And, those cold, naughty chains had better not try sneaking past Denora
Alara again. They've been told, and we'll be here."
We'll always be here.
(For my friend and fellow muse Galactor/Denora Husky, because sometimes
you have to be the big stick, even if you're zooming around with it in your mouf.)
Garth Gilmore/Jospeh Kirlian (4/17/2025)