An aging businessman on an ambiguous search for God seeks out directions from a retired priest.
(from The Atlantic Monthly‘s Fiction Issue)
Well, since Harry doesn’t know what he wants or how to get it, it makes sense that this story has a wandering quality, speckled with possibly meaningless moments and irrelevant epiphanies. But it’s funny; some of the language was too precise, overly explanatory. Spelled everything out too well, too much. Worse: You just see the ending coming, not that that’s a bad thing, but it does spoil the mystery.
Amy Correia, “The Devil and I”