Sunday, 15 December 2019


by Alex Minns

“Ten-minute window,” they call. I’m already in my outfit: Victorian butler, again.

“Do we know where it is?” I call up to the supervisor as I near the jump portal. He gives a shrug.

Biting my tongue, I wait for the countdown: time travellers are idiots. The flash envelops me.

I’m dumped outside the house under the cover of trees. First task, pick the back door’s lock. Next, make my way upstairs. Look like I belong, no-one will look twice. Eight minutes left. I’m in the lounge. Always check the sofa. I pull the smartphone from between the cushions. Idiots.

Author bio: Alex Minns hides away in the east of England writing a variety of sci-fi, paranormal fantasy and steampunk fiction. She has been published in Spring Into Sci-Fi 2019 and Fall Into Fantasy 2019 (both from Cloaked Press). You can find her wasting time on twitter under @Lexikonical or posting short stories and articles on

Cleaners is part of 101 Fiction issue 25.

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