Ryan E. Felton

  • The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 6)

    SELAH: II             “Get down from there, Boogie.” Somewhere in Utah a budgie perches upon a shower curtain rod, shrouded in the vapor clouds swirling above a bathtub full of water, lavender, and sixty-eight year-old, white male flesh.             The man in the tub repeats himself, stern and authoritative:             “C’mon down, Boogie-Man. Sit on…

  • A Routine (audio)

    I’m taking a week away from “The Man Who Ran for God” to work ahead and allow readers to catch up. In lieu of a new installment of that, please enjoy this audio version of my short story “A Routine,” from last year’s The Good-Bye Garden & Other Stories — which, incidentally, is for sale here.…

  • The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 5)

    VIII. A Vain Man through Pride Causeth Debate It was small, this little playhouse stage. Big enough to put on Our Town but certainly not The King and I. Two podiums were on either side, flanked by the drawn and roped curtains. Dodd looked around, heart pounding, forehead damp and chilly. But no one else…

  • The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 4)

    IV. I Will Spue Thee out of My Mouth             They met not at any Waffle House but an Arby’s where two highways crossed. Dodd went alone, driving a rental car. He put on a red baseball cap and sunglasses before he went in. Now was not a good time to stop for selfies with…

  • The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 3)

    SELAH: I             In an office bigger than many men’s own homes sits a withering human being — white, male, hairless with crepe paper for skin. Fingers like rotting twigs press a button near his lap. There is a resulting buzz which summons another ancient man. They are both dressed in couture out of time…