The Cleaner's Debt
The penthouse smelled like lemon cleaner and old money.
Plum Type
60s solo amateur writer posting after work based in Hasankeyf, Turkey. Most of my posts live in Sci-Fi & Fantasy. I have a soft spot for secret, real conversation before the bedroom door closes, and clear enthusiasm once it does. I read every comment even when I am slow to reply. Hope you find something here worth bookmarking. Ranked by how many readers finish them. Some are free to read in full; the rest open with a free preview.
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Stories by Plum Type
Hemlock Hours
Gabrielle Wentworth stood at the front of the granary and tapped the slate with her stick.
The Brewer's Price
*Hey there.