Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Author on Reedsy Prompts since May, 2020

Stories (84)

84 Stories

28875 karma pts

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“Featherless Bipeds” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #122

The morning traffic jam at the high school peaked at 7:47 a.m., short tempered fathers slowing down to jettison their surly sons, mothers asking their daughters if they wanted to take an umbrella just in case, seniors cutting off all other cars to drive diagonally through the parking lot.Mister Carlton angrily tapped the steering wheel of his 2000 Toyota Tercel. It had been his mother’s, a car he inherited when he graduated from college with a teaching degree in social studies and more student loan debt than his entire first year salary. He ...

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“No Thank Hugh” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

⭐️ Shortlisted for Contest #121

“Thanks a lot for coming in tonight—you are a wonderful crowd. Now get out of here!” Hugh’s trademark comedic snark teeters between sincerity and sarcasm. The audience does not know how to take his tone, so they laugh even harder, cheering and whistling at the close of his set. But Hugh is already off stage, walking through the venue's hectic kitchen and out into the dark alley before the waitresses drop checks on the comedy club’s sticky tables. The alley is empty and cold. Hugh puts his head against the rough brick of the bu...

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“What I Want To Say” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #116

“Okay, little ladies . . . You know this is a difficult conversation for all parties concerned, but I am going to ask you for 110 percent. I am going to ask you to bring your ideas to the table as we think outside the box. This should be a constructive meeting for all of us. We are going to use our time together to make positive and productive decisions—results-driven decisions—for our future as we drill down on determining what are the most important things to our individual and collective lives. So no tears, all right? I forbid anyone in t...

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“I Nothing You” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

“Wait . . . can you still hear me?” she asks, expectantly. She paces around the parking lot at dusk, seeing if the connection is better from a different angle. She holds the phone up and squints at it. She hikes a bit up an embankment, stupidly looking at her phone, wondering if two bars can go to four bars without her having to drive somewhere else. She is utterly frustrated with technology, in trying to find a way to properly communicate with him. “Can you still hear me?” she asks again, more loudly. “I can always hear you, ...

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“Waiting for Samuel Beckett” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #114

“You wanna do something fun?” “No.”“You wanna do something fun?” “NO.”“Why not?”“Because your idea of fun isn’t.”“Isn’t what?”“Isn’t fun.” “C’mon.”“No.”“C’mon.”“NO.”“Really?”“Really. Whenever we go out, I end up regretting it.”“You don’t.”“I do.”“C’mon. Fun. Let’s go.” “I don’t want to do anything fun with you because you have the boundaries of a rabid dog.”“Thank you.”“Your idea of fun is breaking things. Rules. Society norms. Girls’ hearts. Curfew. On more than one occasion, windows.”“That’s not always true. Usually tru...

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“The Stuff that Dreams Are Made On” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #113

“I don’t think he loves me anymore,” I say, buttering a warm piece of bread. The bread basket is almost empty, but the waiter will bring us another. We’ll say we regret ordering more. It will ruin our appetite. But we’ll eat more bread gleefully—slathering yellow smears of animal fat on empty carbohydrates. My oldest friend and I meet biweekly for lunch, mainly at restaurants with ferns whose menus have more pages than contemporary novels. “I don’t think he loves me anymore,” I repeat, trying to look sad. I wonder on some leve...

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“Another Form of Water” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #112

The weather forecast called for snow flurries, unusual for this time of year. Yes, she had bundled up the kids for Halloween in all types of inclement weather when they were young—but never for snow. It never snowed this early in the season. No matter, she thought. The ground was parched and dry. Any precipitation would be welcomed.The cold winds had been strong and biting all day. Dead yellow leaves swirled in little vortexes, soon to be accompanied by carelessly discarded candy wrappers. Halloween kicked off the holiday season, culminating...

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“The Witch Hunter's Grandson ” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #111

27 January 1736—London.Matthew Hopkins, III sat stoically with his glass of port at The Prospect of Whitby, a public house on the banks of the River Thames, four short miles from Parliament Square. The pub’s heavy oak paneling was a comfort against the cold, the glass window panes delicately frosted in lacy patterns of ice.Waiting, Hopkins was on edge, eyes unblinking as he looked out on the muddy brown river, its color owing to the riverbed’s silt as well as the filth tossed into it each day. It would be another hundred years and several ch...

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“Kerfuffle in Yazoo County” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #110

The white boy falls out of the Ford F-150 pickup truck first, hitting the road with a sickening thud. His left eye is already turning purplish-red, eyelid swelling to a most startling size. Moments later, a pretty dark skinned girl is launched from the Ford’s passenger side as well, but she elegantly falls, executing a dive, tuck and roll, ending up on her feet as if she’d been preparing for that particular move her whole life—all while keeping ahold of her purse.It is impressive. We almost applaud, taking the cigarettes from our mouths...

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“Mac” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #109

It is Alex LaCroix’s fault. Even as a 1st grader, I know he is pure Virginia white trash—all the LaCroix’s are, my mother says. Still, blonde haired, blue-eyed Alex Lacroix is the most handsome boy in class, if not the entire grade. Even if he is shorter than I am. It will be two decades until I understand the Napoleon complex, but Alex LaCroix has it in spades. Regardless, I’d have done anything for him, an angry little boy whose mother worked nights at ShopRite. We are lined up for a field trip to the woodlands behind the sc...

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“Void > Water > Air > Fire > Earth ” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #108

Void.All gone.I hold my empty red wine glass, eyeing the waiter, feigning interest in the enthusiastic young man standing in front of me. He speaks without ceasing. Not a pause. Not a comma. Not an intake of breath. Just a wall of words emanating from his overly large mouth, a chasm devoid of charm, a wellspring of nothing, a gaping maw. I’m trying to follow him, but he seems to be talking about everything and nothing—all at the same time. But this I do know. Every word, every phrase, and every clause he has relentlessly launched at me in th...

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“The Abyss Gazes Back” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #107

Of course he was late. I’d been warned. When he finally arrived, he sauntered in, wearing an Italian double breasted deconstructed blazer in flecked wool. It looked luxurious, silk and cashmere with patch pockets. He could have paired the jacket with anything. He chose basketball shorts. The kind you find on the floor at Ross Dress for Less. “Are you Dr. Friedrich?” he asked, pronouncing my name in a German accent. His tone indicated neither an apology nor any amount of curiosity. Youthful decadence, entitled by a raw bea...

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“A Man in Love” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #106

The peroxide blonde gave one last heave then awkwardly dismounted. Wordlessly, she gathered up her clothing and strode into the bathroom.Tom Mosley lay very still. There were sounds of a toilet flushing, a faucet running, and oddly, tooth brushing. He made a mental note to throw out his toothbrush after she left. When she finally emerged from the bathroom, her minidress only emphasized her narrow shoulders and wide, disproportionate thighs. Tom wasn’t sure of her age. He wasn’t sure of her name. Her eyes, lashes clumped togeth...

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“Golden Repair” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #105

I’m not going to say another word. There’s really no point. We go round and round and round. It’s just so tedious.Of course this is a waste of time—and money. But I’ve found that in almost thirty years of marriage to her, she is an expert at doing both—often simultaneously. She could teach classes on how to waste her time and my money to make herself feel better. Does she want me to be happier? Then she should just let me be me. She remembers me, right? Same guy she’s known for decades. I’m not that hard to figure out.I work. ...

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“Lawn Darts” by Deidra Whitt Lovegren

Submitted to Contest #103

Billy Putnam shot my dad in the butt with a BB gun. It was quite a feat, as nailing a middle aged man on a ladder cleaning out his rain gutters couldn’t have been easy all the way from the house next door—a house whose gutters were always full of old leaves and debris. My father’s screams of outrage brought my brother Sam and me tumbling right out of our backyard tent. The tent itself was a heavy canvas monstrosity, one held up with bent aluminum poles, yet perfect for us to play in. We’d been taking Polaroids, scrawling down dates and ...

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Author bio

Copyright © 2023 Deidra Whitt Lovegren - All Rights Reserved. Using content without written permission is prohibited. Check out the website: deidrawhittlovegren.com Listen to a podcast: Readlotswritelots.com Read us one of your stories: Bluemarblestorytellers.com Chat about the joys & frustrations of writing: https://discord.gg/bxTWQw3HJR Winning stories: 🏆#142 - "What You Can Do With Your Book" 🏆#67 - "Your Poor Rick" 🏆#53 - "The Play's the Thing" Shortlisted: 🏅#235 - “Dispatched” 🏅#198 - “Butter & Cream” 🏅#189 - “The Smoke of Her Burning” 🏅#172 - “Honestly” 🏅#171 - “Kaleidoscope” 🏅#168 - "Far Away and Fast” 🏅#158 - "Like a Baseball Bat to the Face" 🏅#144 - "Shuttered Hearts" 🏅#138 - "Homewrecker" 🏅#136 - "Hack" 🏅#124 - "The 10th Circle of Hell" 🏅#121 - "No Thank Hugh" 🏅#77 - "As Ice Glazes Rocks" 🏅#65 - "Marshmallow Wrapped In Barbed Wire" 🏅#52 - "Irrumator Praetor Matrem Suam" 🏅#47 - "A Breakup in Five Acts" My personal favorites are: ❤️ “No One Really Explains” ❤️ “Can't Get Enough of What You Don't Need”

Winning 2 stories 🏆

Contest #142

What You Can Do With Your Book – read story

Contest #67

Your Poor Rick – read story

Shortlisted 16 stories ⭐️

Contest #235

Dispatched – read story

Contest #198

Butter & Cream – read story

Contest #189

The Smoke of Her Burning – read story

Contest #172

Honestly – read story

Contest #171

Kaleidoscope – read story