Ryan Everett Felton

  • 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…

  • The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 12)

    SELAH: IV It’s been three weeks since the debate at Radio City Music Hall. And tonight, Benjamin Dunwoodie hugs a beach pail with his thighs and dry heaves into it. Only a thimbleful of bile plops out into the bucket. There isn’t much left in him; he hasn’t been the same since Tanzania. “I am…

  • The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 11)

    XIV. …And Be Content with What You Have Three years before the Tanzania affair, Gideon Dodd thanked the man at the hardware store as he dropped two copies of a key into the preacher’s hand. He paid for the discounted wood scraps in his cart — they’d make nice whittling — and turned onto the…

  • The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 10)

    VII. Therefore My Harp Is Tuned to Mourning “Who died?” In America, five years before Gideon Dodd would don the very same outfit to honor his deceased wife, he straightened a black tie and practiced a somber punim in the mirror of his grandiose dressing room. A woman at the mahogany door spoke to him…

  • The Man Who Ran for God (pt. 9)

    III. Weep Bitterly for Her Who Goes Away Six days after Gideon Dodd’s sermon about Truth — and about his wife Tamera’s infamous interview with Maria Gutierrez (not yet Stenson) — he returned home late from an elders’ meeting. He was hungry. He was thinking about playing catch with his boy, maybe, after dinner. (Not…

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