Outcasts, Beatniks, and Wanderers: A Collection of Short Stories

Atlas - New Novel

A/N: This is just a really short excerpt from a new novel I’ve started to write. The themes surrounding it involve the place of religion in an evolving world, accepting new faiths, and accepting secularism/ atheism. The main character was raised in a religious household, and was actually homeschooled until he became eighteen. The supporting character, Amelia, is strongly-willed atheist, having been raised as one. As far as plot goes, I have already decided against a romance. If anything, I think I want to taunt my readers with growing tension, only to have some devastating climax and rip the two main characters apart.

"You know," Amelia began, twisting a brunette wad of split-ends around her fingertips, "that your namesake was condemned for all of eternity?"

I swallowed a lump in my throat, unable to look into her dark eyes. "No. I've never heard of that."

"Oh, poor Atlas!" she exclaimed, a hint of sarcasm ringing through her words. "A beast of a burden always upon his shoulders, his shouts to be heard from the heights of Olympus."

I turned to the sturdy dining room table, tracing my fingers along the coarse wood. Only a few months ago, I was handed an eleven-hundred page leather-bound book with a glossy Holy Bible spelled magnificently across the cover.

At that time, my father found himself with his hands always held upwards, begging for a solution to a problem that could not be simply solved. He never encountered the magic answer he had prayed for. He never realized that even God could not bring back the dead.

"Why does it matter?" I inquired.

She laughed, a cackle that lacked any sign of compassion. "It's your name. This should concern you to an extent," Amelia explained.

"I don't care," I said evenly. "Most people are more than a name."

Amelia laughed once more, the same cackle echoing. "It's a shame that you're not one of them."

Focus failed to accompany me for the remainder of the night. Amelia’s cruel words resounded for an eternity. Sadly enough, that was not the first instance that Amelia had haunted my thoughts. She equipped herself with insults in one back pocket, sarcasm in the other.

“Is that all you know about Greek Mythology?” I questioned, interrupting our Spanish speaking practice.

She tucked aside her textbook, raising her eyebrows. “Of course not. There are so many lovely stories and instances of blatant homosexuality.It’s nothing that you’d be interested in.”

I pushed my own studying materials aside. “Try me.”