Ryan E. Felton

  • Implicated

    Implicated Imagine me, five years old, and scared to death to open my eyes — to take even the bitsiest peep — during prayers at the dinner table, at church services, or weddings. Was it some rule set by my God-fearing mother, a warning from a Sunday school teacher, or just basic intuition? Don’t look…

  • An Alan Smithee Joint

    An Alan Smithee Joint Ryan Everett Felton                 As press junkets go, this one was just anemic, Val thought. She’d been to smart phone video game tournaments, e-zine release parties, hell – even a Brad Garrett book signing with higher attendances. Judging by the other half-dozen reporters’ attire…

  • A Routine

    A Routine Ryan Everett Felton           One.           Two.           Three.           I shift the car from park to drive the requisite number of times. I count along in my head, as the ritual demands.        …

  • Correspondence

    Correspondence Ryan Everett Felton “We are symbols, and inhabit symbols.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson Mother was an eccentric, yes, but for the first time in my adult life I can say without a doubt that she was perfectly sane. The day we laid her to rest (that’s such a funny thing to say, isn’t it?…

  • Her Perplexed Words

    Her Perplexed Words Ryan Everett Felton             After a long day at the library, sweet old Ms. Goodson was somewhat dismayed to find her front door obstructed by a stray sphinx, curled up and napping on her welcome mat.             “Oh, wonderful,” she said. Hitching her purse up her shoulder, she lifted a dainty foot…