A.P. Harper

Some burdens don’t break you all at once.
They break you one straw at a time.

A short story about distance, patience, and what we carry.

The Straw At first, the desert pretended it was quiet.

A president. A führer. Jesus.
A hallway.
A plan.

What could possibly go wrong?

🖤 The One-Day Coup
https://apharper.com/one-minute-shorts-1/f/the-one-day-coup

The One Day Coup The coup began, as all serious historical events do, with a plan in the War Room, safely out of prying eyes and ears, shortly after morning juice.

Out and about in Portland, OR, the setting of my upcoming psychological mystery The Fractured Echo. Final polish in progress 🚧 Teaser: Edison wakes from a coma with a gunshot wound and no memory of the night Frank Clarke was killed. The evidence says he did it. His fingerprints are everywhere. The gun was in his hand. But Edison swears he doesn’t even know the man… his father, supposedly. 🫆📚🚔

https://www.instagram.com/p/DOJALjvko6c/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MTRmYzVqaHBob252cA==

I'm grateful to be featured by DE MODE 🙏
Thank you for spotlighting my work and for continuing to champion creativity across genres and voices. It’s an honor to be part of such an inspiring platform. ✨

Got A Minute? Discover Author A.P. Harper’s bite-sized brilliance — a collection of short stories, micro-thoughts, and “mind doodles” that linger longer than expected. From heartbreak to hilarity, her words capture the essence of being human in clever, unexpected ways. To read her journey and interview with DE MODE, download the complete issue now! #APHarper #GotAMinute #DEMODEMagazine #ContemporaryFiction

A big thank you to DE MODE Magazine for featuring me on your pages! It’s such an honor, and I’m truly humbled to see my work shared with your readers.📖
And to everyone, my fans and my doubters, you keep me going. I couldn’t do this without you.💙

Dear Readers,

This season, DE MODE explores worlds where beauty tells a story—through fashion, literature, and travel. We begin with Mommi of Galileo Couture, whose art-driven designs merge philosophy, sustainability, and innovation into garments with soul.

Next, Aug’s Top 5 Must-Read Books transport you from thrilling adventures to heartwarming tales—perfect for the beach, a journey, or a quiet evening.

Finally, we stroll through Italy’s intoxicating charms—where speed, style, and flavour meet. From the elegance of Ferrari and Maserati to the romance of Venice, grandeur of Rome, and sunlit Amalfi Coast, every corner is a sensory feast.

In these pages, creativity is crafted, savoured, and remembered.

Happy Reading!

Chief-In-Editor

A battered young woman. A quiet act of kindness. A one-way ticket to freedom. 🗽
Set in 1912 Ireland, Where the Stars Fell is a story about hope, resilience, and the quiet cost of believing in something better.
Now live on my site.

#1912

Where The Stars Fell Eileen Meehan ran the silver-backed brush through Miss Fannie McHugh’s long auburn hair, slow and steady. Afternoon light filtered through lace curtains, warming the carved bedposts and catching the shimmer in the wallpa...

🍷 New Story Now Live: "Give Me a Lever and a Good Red"
Who would you invite to your dream dinner party? Drop it in the comments—and tell me why. I’m curious.

What started as a quiet dinner turned into a slightly unhinged night with seven of history’s greatest minds—plus a bottle (or four) of wine, some planetary olives, and one very tipsy surrealist.

It’s not a dream. But it isn’t exactly reality either.

I was a little tipsy myself when I wrote it, and somewhere between Archimedes rearranging olives into Saturn and Newton knocking over the martinis, I was reminded of the late-night conversations I used to have with my dad—equal parts philosophical, ridiculous, and unexpectedly profound. And another glass of red.

This story was written on a whim and polished with care—absurd, thoughtful, and unapologetically weird. I never meant to host a dinner party in the afterlife, but once the guests arrived, I just set the table and got out of their way.

Now live on my site—along with the illustrated version that captures the whole strange evening.

👉 https://apharper.com/one-minute-shorts-1/f/give-me-a-lever-and-a-good-red

GIVE ME A LEVER AND A GOOD RED “Give me a place to stand, and I will move the Earth.” — Archimedes

🖤 New Short Story: ONE SMALL STEP
Twenty years in prison. One paper bag. A bus ticket to nowhere.
Ray Keller walks free—but freedom doesn’t feel like freedom.
Not when the world’s moved on without him.

A quiet, haunting story about institutionalization, regret,
and the desperate need for order.

Teaser:
[...] The morning air cut through him like a blade. Wind danced with brittle leaves across the gravel path as he pulled the thin, prison-issued jacket tighter around his chest. The first thing that hit him wasn’t the cold, though.

It was the distance. The depth of it all.

Not eight feet. Not twenty-five. But hundreds of yards stretching out into the world. Uninterrupted. Vast. No walls. No fence. He blinked against it. The openness felt dangerous. Like falling without end. He glanced back at the gate, almost longing for it. [...]

📖 Read now: https://apharper.com/one-minute-shorts-1/f/one-small-step

One Small Step Ray Keller was handed a paper bag with his old boots, a cracked belt, and a flannel shirt from twenty years ago. Other than the boots, nothing fit anymore. And truthfully, neither did he.

🔴 Power. Paranoia. Poison. 🔴

In the halls of Soviet power, history isn’t written—it’s swallowed. Meet The Rabbit, Stalin’s food taster, a man who lives (and dines) in constant fear. But when he finally takes fate into his own hands, he learns a brutal lesson: in a world ruled by tyrants, the table may change, but the meal stays the same.

Lukewarm. Oily. Too salty.

Some things never end.
Read The Bear & The Rabbit here:
https://apharper.com/one-minute-shorts-1/f/the-bear-the-rabbit

The Bear & The Rabbit The bowl of soup sat before him, steaming, thick with cabbage and Stalin’s paranoia. The dining hall was vast, yet suffocating—airless, as if the walls themselves held their breath. A grand chandelier, its crystals dulle...

Feeling incredibly grateful for this thoughtful review from Readers’ Favorite.
A huge thank you to Carol Thompson for her kind words and insightful reflections—especially the nod to Hitchcock, O. Henry, and Raymond Carver. That’s company I never imagined being mentioned alongside!

If you love short stories with a bit of suspense, irony, and the unexpected, I hope you’ll check it out. And if you’ve already read Got a Minute?, I’d love to hear which stories stuck with you—one minute at a time.

"Reviewed By Carol Thompson for Readers' Favorite
Got a Minute? A Collection of Short Tales and Other Mind Doodles by A.P. Harper is an engaging short story anthology that showcases the author’s quick, impactful storytelling ability. Each narrative, crafted with precision and flair, offers a brief glimpse into different facets of life, from the mundane to the extraordinary. Harper’s
collection encapsulates entire worlds within a few succinct pages. Each story is built around a central theme that relates to universal human experiences. The collection is a masterclass in how to tell a complete, compelling story in a condensed form.

My favorite is “The Widow, " which stands out for its clever plot and the subtle interplay of irony and humor, reminiscent of Alfred Hitchcock’s “Lamb to the Slaughter.” In this story, Harper draws the reader into a tightly woven narrative that culminates in a surprising yet inevitable twist. Similar to Hitchcock’s work, Harper uses the ordinary to transition into the extraordinary. The collection features both short and long-form stories. Literary devices such as dramatic irony and metaphor enhance the stories’ impact. Harper has a knack for turning a phrase so that seemingly simple situations gain meaning and complexity. Got a Minute? is a must read for anyone who appreciates the art of the short story. Each piece demonstrates A.P. Harper’s skill at blending the everyday with the suspenseful, making every minute spent reading rich and rewarding. Readers who enjoy the minimalist style of Raymond Carver or O. Henry’s twist endings won’t want to miss this anthology."

You can learn more about A.P. Harper and "Got A Minute?" at
https://readersfavorite.com/book-review/got-a-minute, where you can read reviews and the author’s biography, as well as connect with the author directly or through their website and social media pages.

Readers' Favorite LLC
Media Relations

Book review of Got A Minute? Got a Minute? A Collection of Short Tales and Other Mind Doodles by A.P. Harper is an engaging short story anthology that showcases the author’s quick, impactful storytelling ability. Each narrative, crafted with precision and flair, offers a brief glimpse into different facets of life, from the m...

Suite 205 - last session
It’s the last session of the day, and Dr. Morgan is hanging by a thread. After a lineup of villains, each more complex than the last, the final patient steps into Suite 205.

But don’t be fooled—there’s no winding down here. This one is a true wildcard, bringing chaos, depth, and a touch of unpredictability to close the day. Will Dr. Morgan survive one more hour?

Catch the finale and let us know: Which of today’s villains left the biggest impression on you?
Thank you for stepping into Suite 205 with me and exploring the minds of these unforgettable characters.
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3:00 p.m. – The Green Goblin
Dr. Morgan paced her office for a moment, her gaze drifting to the window as the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room. It had been a day of chaos, egos, and more emotional gymnastics than she cared to recount. She paused by her chair, exhaling sharply before settling back into her seat.
The sound of deliberate footsteps approached, followed by a firm knock on the door. When it opened, Norman Osborn entered, his tailored suit a study in perfection, every line and detail meticulously maintained. His sharp eyes surveyed the room, and though he carried himself with the poise of a CEO, there was an unmistakable crack in the mask—a flicker of something restless, volatile.
“Dr. Morgan,” he said, his voice smooth and commanding. He stepped inside, closing the door with precision, and gave her a calculated smile.
“Mr. Osborn,” she replied, gesturing to the couch. “Please, have a seat.”
He moved with measured grace, sitting carefully, his hands clasped in front of him. But as he adjusted his tie, she noticed a slight twitch in his jaw, a spark of something wild behind his composed exterior.
“So,” she began, picking up her notepad, “what brings you in today?”
Osborn’s smile tightened. “Stress, I suppose. Balancing an empire has its challenges.”
“Of course,” Dr. Morgan said, jotting a note: Stress masked by control. Needs to dominate narrative. “What would you say is the greatest source of that stress?”
He hesitated, his fingers flexing against the couch’s arm. “Distractions,” he said finally. “People who refuse to see the bigger picture. Obstacles.”
Dr. Morgan tilted her head. “Obstacles like?”
His gaze sharpened, his voice dropping to a low, clipped tone. “Like those who think they can challenge me. People who don’t understand their place.”
Her pen paused. “That sounds… frustrating.”
Osborn leaned forward slightly, the controlled veneer slipping just enough to reveal the edge beneath. “Frustrating doesn’t cover it. The audacity—” He stopped himself, inhaling deeply, his polished demeanor snapping back into place. “Let’s just say it’s difficult to manage those who lack vision.”
Dr. Morgan jotted another note: Difficulty tolerating dissent. Fixation on hierarchy. “And this vision you mention—what does it look like?”
He smiled faintly, leaning back. “Order. Innovation. A world where strength and intellect lead, not mediocrity.”
“And who defines strength and intellect?” she asked.
His expression darkened, his voice taking on a sharper edge. “Those who deserve it.”
Dr. Morgan set her pen down briefly, her tone calm but firm. “You’ve built an empire, Mr. Osborn. You clearly value control. But it sounds like the need to prove yourself weighs heavily on you.”
Osborn’s jaw tightened. “Prove myself?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “To whom?”
“To the people who challenge you,” she replied. “Or maybe to yourself. Could it be that part of you fears losing control?”
His fingers curled into a fist, the composed mask cracking. For a moment, his voice shifted—low, snarling, almost inhuman. “Control is power. And power isn’t given—it’s taken.”
Dr. Morgan’s gaze didn’t waver. “And if you lose it? What then?”
The change was instantaneous. His smile returned, but it was colder, sharper. He stood abruptly, smoothing his tie. “This has been... enlightening, Doctor. But I think we’re done for today.”
Dr. Morgan stayed seated, her tone unshaken. “Of course. If you ever feel like revisiting these questions, you know where to find me.”
He inclined his head, the wild glint in his eyes flashing once more. “Perhaps,” he said, his voice almost playful. “Good day, Doctor.”
With that, he strode out, the door closing firmly behind him.
Dr. Morgan paused, staring at the notepad before writing: Norman Osborn’s obsession with control and power mirrors humanity’s darker impulses—the fear of vulnerability and the belief that dominance equates to security. His fractured sense of self, marked by moments of volatility, highlights the fragility of a mind consumed by ambition. How often do we sacrifice connection for the illusion of strength?
She leaned back, closing the notepad with a sigh. The day was done, but the echoes of her patients lingered.
Linh poked her head into the office, her usual bright smile tempered by a hint of concern. “What a day! How are you holding up?”
“Indeed,” Dr. Morgan replied, rubbing her temples. “Between a wolf with boundary issues, a Sith Lord with regrets, and a megalomaniac in a tailored suit, I think I’ve earned something stronger than coffee.”
Linh grinned and held up two glasses and a small bottle of bourbon. “I thought you might say that. Want some company?”
Dr. Morgan smirked, motioning for Linh to join her. “You’re learning.”
Linh poured them each a glass and settled into the armchair across from her. “So, what’s your takeaway from today?”
Dr. Morgan swirled her drink, staring at the amber liquid. “People will go to extraordinary lengths to hide their vulnerabilities—even from themselves. The trick is convincing them that strength isn’t the absence of weakness.”
Linh raised her glass. “To finding strength in the mess.”
Dr. Morgan clinked her glass lightly against Linh’s. “Strength in the mess!”
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