Harper Lewis
Bio
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and all kinds of witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me.
I’m known as Dena Brown to the revenuers and pollsters.
MA English literature, College of Charleston
Stories (295)
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Saint Nobody
One night while I was in graduate school at the College of Charleston, I was hanging out with some friends from home who had also relocated to Charleston. We were at Brad and Alicia’s on James Island. Alicia and I took Geology together in undergrad, and I used to work at the jazz club next door to Brad’s bar. Fio and I had daughters around the same age, and they had attended a church day school together as toddlers. I had known her husband, Patrick for quite some time, and I hated her ex-husband, Todd, almost as much as she did, for different reasons.
By Harper Lewis2 months ago in Writers
Constantine’s II
Sometimes dinner is more than dinner. If you’ve read my other piece about Constantine’s in Gastonia, NC, pour yourself a glass of wine and get comfortable. My husband and I dine there frequently because it’s an experience, not just eating some food.
By Harper Lewis2 months ago in Writers
First Frost
I should have heard it or felt it the first time the cold breath of it tried to extinguish my flame. That resonant no, echoing for all time, saying on every winter night filled with smoky breath; every spring twilight filled with hope, romance, and youth; every summer afternoon harsh with sunlight and suffocating heat, every magical moment of autumn seized as if the seasons can tolerate singular possession, that another’s desires must eclipse my needs.
By Harper Lewis2 months ago in Poets
Football Friday Night. Content Warning.
It was one of those magical southern nights in October, and all of the teenagers in town were drunk on autumn and youth. There would be a party after the football game, and youthful concupiscence would be satisfied before the moon set in the morning sky. In anticipation of this, the boys were dousing themselves in Polo and Drakkar Noir while the girls teased their bangs into ski slopes and lacquered them above their heavily mascaraed eyes lined with kohl and painted hot pink stripes on their cheekbones. Def Leppard and Whitesnake blasted from boomboxes perched on dressers and lingerie chests. Pliers were used to zip jeans, and Marlboro Lights were smuggled out of sock drawers and into handbags while condoms pressed their circular imprint into dollar bills in wallets in back pockets.
By Harper Lewis2 months ago in Chapters
Laundry
The sun was about halfway down the afternoon sky, and the late-summer mugginess was nearly visible. The vague hum of suburban noise lingered here and there on this hazy late July day. Susan pointed the nozzle of the hose at a withering hydrangea, fuming, absolutely certain that something was going on with Sam and Lila. She nearly tripped over the cedar stump when she put the hose back. She and Sam had the tree cut when they bought the house; it had been almost completely choked with wisteria and was a threat to the house. Susan had been more upset about losing the wisteria than the tree. The purple blossoms looked like grapes to her, so pretty in the spring sky.
By Harper Lewis2 months ago in Fiction
