THE PARABLE OF

the Faithful Atheist

There was a scientist who did not believe in gods or fairies or supernatural creatures of any sort. But she had once known an angel, and had talked to her every day. Mostly they argued, often about whether or not the angel existed. The scientist finally won the argument by trapping the angel inside a prescription bottle.

One day, two years after the angel had been captured, the scientist grew curious and decided to look inside the bottle. She opened the lid and peeked inside. She saw nothing but pills. Then she tossed out the pills. But still the angel was nowhere to be found.

This confused the scientist, and also saddened her.

Sometime later, in the middle of winter, she went walking in the woods, and came upon a man sitting on a rock. The snow was piled all around him, and he looked like he’d been there for some time. He was a white man with ruddy skin and a great halo of gray hair.

The scientist stopped, and was very afraid. She had seen this man twice before, once in a city in the north, and once in another city hundreds of miles away to the southeast, and now here, in the northern woods. He did not look like the kind of man who could afford airplane tickets. He was dressed in many layers of clothing. The outmost coat was crusted with snow and dirt. Below were jackets, fleeces, sweaters, dress shirts, and T-shirts, each layer older than the one above it, like geological strata. At the man’s feet, resting against the base of the rock he sat upon, was a bulging black garbage bag that the scientist assumed contained all the man’s worldly possessions.

The scientist overcame her fear and marched up to the man. “What the fuck are you doing here?” she said.

The man said nothing. He sat on the rock, looking down at his black bag.

“You think this is funny?” the scientist said. “This magical hobo shit? My god, why didn’t you make yourself black, too? I mean, Jesus, what’s the point?”

The man became very still. His skin grew pale as porcelain. Hairline fractures appeared, and then began to split wide. Light burned through the seams, and the scientist fell back, holding up a hand against the light. With a sound like a crack of thunder, the man’s outer shell shattered and fell away, clothing and skin and hair crackling like glass, until the angel was revealed.

“Behold,” Dr. Gloria said. For that was the angel’s name.

“You are such a fucking drama queen,” the scientist said.

“I told you I would be with you always,” Dr. Gloria said. She stepped down from the rock and flexed her wings. In her hand was a notepad bursting with hundreds of pages.

“That trick at Edo’s,” the scientist said. “That thing with the sword? I know why you did it.”

“What trick?” the angel said innocently. She blew some snow from the top page on the pad.

“What do you have there?” the scientist asked.

“Oh,” the angel said. “I’ve been working on a book of parables.”

—G.I.E.D.