The Devil All the Time

by Donald Ray Pollock

As far back as he could remember, it seemed that his father had fought the Devil all the time.

In his opinion, the navy was one branch of the military that should never be allowed to drink.

In the three years he’d served in the army, he hadn’t met a single swabby who could hold his liquor. Someone had told him that it was because of the saltpeter they were fed to keep them from going crazy and fucking each other when they were out to sea.

“It’s ruined many a good man, that ol’ nasty hair pie,” the cripple was heard to say after he’d had a few drinks.

“It’s hard to live a good life,” he said. “It seems like the Devil don’t ever let up.”