Ryan E. Felton

  • With Child

    WTH. He has a kid What do you mean? Like, with him??? Yes. At the table w him. omg ABORT ABORT             Christina put her phone away and pulled her scarf up over her mouth. Her date, met on some app or other, had claimed one of the plaza’s round tables. “Between the coffee truck…

  • Going Away

                Ben had these little soaps I’d pick up and smell in his bathroom. They were like little seashells. Looked like white chocolate, smelled like I don’t know. Flowers or something. I’d always take one into my hand when I was peeing and think about taking a bite out of it. The night of Ben’s…

  • Accommodations, Pt. 2

    NIGHT             Her new room wasn’t ready yet when she returned to the Inverness. That was just fine, she told Jordan, shivering in waterlogged clothes. She left the lobby and went past the bar, which was unmanned and off-limits by way of red suede stanchions. Teeth chattering, she poured herself two coffees in the self-serve…

  • Accommodations, Pt. 1

    NIGHT             Andi checked in laughing.             “Room at the inn?” she joked of the desolate lobby. Her voice, smoky and worn for someone in her late twenties, bounded off marble. Chandelier crystals tinkled overhead.             “Might be able to squeeze you in.” The man at the desk smiled before raising a paper mask over…

  • 101 Reasons to Hate Dogs

    with thanks to Bill, Bob, and Dodie   “Not to state the obvious,” Selina said, “but I don’t really do dogs.” Bruce’s mouth tightened—not a smile; never a smile. The German Shephard at his feet let a strand of slobber patter onto hundred-thousand-dollar loafers. “It’s one night,” Bruce said. “I’ll be back from Santa Prisca…

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