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Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2020

Stories (72)
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72 Stories

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Dispatched

Shortlisted for Contest #235 ⭐️

“9-1-1. What is your emergency?” Casey moved to the edge of her chair, fully aware that all eyes in the Dispatch Center were on her. She struggled to focus on her first call, her mind ruminating on the “we-need-to-talk” text she sent Michael that morning. Her boyfriend had grown distant since starting classes at the community college. “9-1-1. What is your emergency?” she repeated more loudly.Click.Casey tapped her console, disconnecting the line before immediately calling the number back. She had been trained to expect numerous han...

126 likes 80 comments 80
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Butter & Cream

Shortlisted for Contest #198 ⭐️

I have fed the cat butter and cream before he dies. Dairy is terrible for a cat’s gastrointestinal tract, but then again, so is abnormal dilation of the colon. I’ll take the blame for the dairy. God can take the blame for the rest.For the hundredth time in a week, the cat valiantly tries to poop in his box and cannot. This puzzles him as he hasn’t been sick one day in his whole 15 years of life. What happens when things that have always worked suddenly don’t?The cat tries to defecate again, carefully scratching through the Fre...

102 likes 119 comments 119
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The Smoke of Her Burning

Shortlisted for Contest #189 ⭐️

Part I: It was so terribly cold.It had always been cold in Denmark, especially on New Year’s Eve.The wintry winds brought a desperate chill to those unsettled and impoverished. Wars continued to ravage the land. Treaties were torn up as soon as they were signed. Industrialization poisoned Scandinavian cities and its people. The young moved west for better opportunities in warmer climes, leaving the rich, the poor, and the poor’s children on the streets of Copenhagen. The rich fared no worse—no matter how many people left the country. Wh...

81 likes 65 comments 65
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Honestly

Shortlisted for Contest #172 ⭐️

“O Woman That I Used To Love, what should we get for dinner tonight?’’“Honestly, my Greatest Disappointment? I don’t care.”“You do care. You want me to suggest a place to eat so you can shoot it down. Whatever I say, you will wrinkle your little nose like I decided that we should eat out of the cat’s litter box.”“You could not be more wrong, but you usually are.” “Perhaps you could stop on the way home and pick up some takeout.”“I could, but I won’t. Our nightly conversation about dinner is the only authentic communication we will have ...

108 likes 99 comments 99
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Kaleidoscope

Shortlisted for Contest #171 ⭐️

You never asked for this much insight.But you can’t have both innocence and experience. Experience. A charming euphemism for pain and suffering. Either one will drive out innocence altogether. Isn’t that what you’re really after—a return to Eden? Minus the snake. Minus the apple. Minus Adam, for that matter. However, if you had stayed in an unspoiled world, you would have learned nothing. You would have felt nothing. You would have seen nothing. Better to have loved and lost—etcetera etcetera. Now let’s talk about your ba...

75 likes 55 comments 55
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Far Away and Fast

Shortlisted for Contest #168 ⭐️

There were too many of us, Lizzy thought, tucking herself behind a door jamb.Her father smoked in stony silence in front of a television, while her mother swatted her brothers who snatched fingerfuls of mashed potatoes from a large bowl on the dining room table. In various sizes, her brothers pushed and yelled, whining about being hungry, complaining about being late for football or wrestling practice, asking if there were any more chocolate doughnuts from the bakery.As usual, her mother was cross, but she never yelled. She would slam c...

78 likes 57 comments 57
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Like a Baseball Bat to the Face

Shortlisted for Contest #158 ⭐️

“I need your car.”“Carrie, it’s the middle of the night—”“Simms,” she says in a low voice, unnaturally calm. “Walk back to your bedroom, tell your wife to shut up, grab your keys, and bring them to me.”“C’mon, Carrie,” he whines. Simms is as petulant as a boy whose mother dotes on him—one of the reasons Carrie dumped him in high school.Thirty years later, he is just as weak.“Now, Simms. Hurry.”Simms turns, complying with her request, not because he loves her—but because he loves his wife far less. “Goodness, Simmy! Who is at the door th...

98 likes 108 comments 108
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Shuttered Hearts

Shortlisted for Contest #144 ⭐️

Weddings prove to be the perfect hunting grounds. My brother—with his ridiculous scythe—prefers them, harvesting the overly excited elderly in the midst of their joy. He finds those who’ve imbibed too much, attempting to drive home instead of into a telephone pole. On occasion, a jilted lover will show up, armed and reckless, doing most of his work for him. Fortunately, there are also tiny bones in fancy fish and overweight aunts who dance until their hearts give out. Hearts are normally my thing. Click. I smile, giving t...

87 likes 70 comments 70
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What You Can Do With Your Book

Winner of Contest #142 🏆

You present me with a gift bag as if legions of angels will descend, trumpeting your thoughtfulness in remembering my [insert celebratory event here]. I’m gracious, of course. You shouldn’t have!And I mean that. You shouldn’t have. Because now you are stepping over the line. We are simply:co-workers mothers with children at the same school neighbors with dogs old-friends-from-college, or spouses-of-old-friends-from-college. Regardless, we are not on gift-bagging terms. Especially the kind you immediate...

303 likes 274 comments 274
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Homewrecker

Shortlisted for Contest #138 ⭐️

“No, she isn’t my daughter,” he corrects a colleague. “She’s my wife.”On cue, I beam at my husband, innocent and doe-eyed—like I did in my 20’s when he was in his 40’s. His friend invariably elbows him, making comments about cradle robbing and spring chickens. We laugh. I say something clever in reply. His companion looks surprised. And she’s witty, too?My cheeks hurt in an attempt to hold a smile. They continue to talk like I’m not there, but my husband reaches out for my hand. Above all, we are the dearest of friends. But in publ...

124 likes 130 comments 130
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Hack

Shortlisted for Contest #136 ⭐️

Your cursor blinks. Your cursor blinks ceaselessly. You delete ceaselessly. Adverbs are not your friend. Adverbs are indicative of weak diction, but you cannot think of a better verb to express the action just the way you want. Certainly you can use an adverb occasionally. You delete occasionally.  You delete certainly.You can use an adverb on occasion. You close your laptop. Your writing session is not going well. None of the five prompts are particularly inspiring.You decide to take a break. Make a sandwi...

101 likes 106 comments 106
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War Crimes

Submitted to Contest #135

Andriy watched his father move an anti-tank mine out of the roadway using his bare hands, all the while smoking a Chinese cigarette, the tobacco loose and pungent. “Your name, Andriy, means manly and strong,” his father explained through clenched teeth, delicately carrying the explosive. “I named you for days like these. You will be a soldier. A warrior.” “How can I be a warrior? I’m twelve,” Andriy replied, standing a ways off, hands at the ready to cover his ears. “Twelve is old enough to be the greatest of warriors. Yo...

58 likes 64 comments 64
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Few and Far Between

Submitted to Contest #134

“He fell again,” my husband mouths to me, then returns to his phone call with his-brother-who-I-cannot-stand. “No, no. I’m right here. I can be there in twenty minutes.”Of course he’s going out in an ice storm in the middle of the night. Of course he’s the one my father-in-law calls, a man who patently favors my husband’s inept older brother and overindulges his younger one. Of course he’s riding to the rescue. That’s what martyrs do. My husband paces, phone still in hand. “Did the doctors say anything else—what caused the fall?” D...

63 likes 67 comments 67
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Get Thee to a Nunnery

Submitted to Contest #131

“Sister Theresa, what time does the new applicant arrive?” Sister Pauline asked politely, to avoid Sister Theresa’s wrath. For a Franciscan, Sister Theresa could be entirely uncharitable, even to the abbess herself.“Oh you old cow, I’ve told you twice already!” Sister Theresa replied, throwing the bread dough she’d been kneading into a large wooden bowl, as if the water, flour, salt and yeast had purposely annoyed her. She punched the dough down a few more times, then covered the bowl with a kitchen towel to let it rise. In an hour or so, sh...

48 likes 40 comments 40
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Marked for Failure

Submitted to Contest #130

Twenty years earlier, Chaoxiang’s mother had held her newborn son, weeping with joy. Of all the auspicious names to choose from, his mother picked the Chinese name for “expecting fortune.” As an undocumented kitchen worker at AmeriCasino’s Shanghai Buffet in Reno, Chaoxiang had learned to temper his expectations. In the midst of chopping endless mounds of broccoli, mushrooms, onions, and peppers for a pittance, Chaoxiang paused mid-slice, knee-deep in parings, to watch the cheery twinkle lights blink. Outside, they clicked wildly agains...

60 likes 59 comments 59
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