Ryan Fleisch: Profession of No Faith
Years of rigorous research, reading, and unsuccessful attempts were all paying off as the professor’s thoughts outran his pen. Stabbing the paper with that final period invoked a moment of surreal disbelief. “I’ve done it,” he thought to himself as he whipped off his glasses and curtained his mouth with one hand, “I’ve finished the essay which will rupture all reasons for belief in a divine being.”
The hours passed as he found no logical fallacy, no missed step, not even the slightest grammatical error in his work. Whether they were ready to embrace it or not, the arms of science had wrapped themselves around the torso of every theist. A smile crawled onto the professor’s face as he thought of his many encounters with evangelists. They had promised him Hell as they called out, ‘Blasphemer! Heretic!’ Still smiling, he thought, “Oh how I would love to revisit each of them with my newfound evidence – how I would love to see their faces fall apart in disbelief. Their reading my essay would awaken them from a dream which they had fabricated for years. Some might thank me for finally admitting them to reality; others, however, would surely become angry with me for disturbing their sleep and would want nothing more than to fall back into it.”
Many hours had galloped by before the professor finally released his grip from the pages. Reclining in his chair he retired his glasses and rubbed the last notion of doubt from his eyes. His work was done; crossing his office he swung open the door. Morning was already in full bloom as the orchestra of trees swayed to the lead of the wind. A million thoughts began to stampede through the professor’s head, but his concentration was broken as a single droplet landed on his cheek. Taking his middle finger he wiped it off and noticed that not only was the liquid red – it was blood. Confused, he cocked his neck back and realized there was nothing above him except a barren and empty sky.