"I've reviewed your writing, and I must say, it's quite exemplary. Your descriptions of every major religion's afterlife, with special attention to the underworld, or "hell" as you call it, are exquisite. However, a few things have crossed my mind." Devon began as the waiter appeared.
"Anything to drink?" The waiter asked.
Looking greatly annoyed by the intrusion, Devon ordered his and Derick's drinks hastily. After the waiter left, Devon began again. "You mention the need for individuals to believe in something. Is that what you think the afterlife is? Just belief?" Devon sat back in his chair and put his fingertips to his lips.
"Of course. No one really knows for sure." Derick replied.
Devon readjusted his position. "See, that's where I beg to differ. Someone always knows the truth. You just have to find that individual."
Derick snickered. "You're kidding."
"No." Devon's face didn't show a bit of emotion.
Derick's smile disappeared when he realized that Devon was, indeed, serious. "So, how about the rest of it?"
"I think you should look the manuscript over. I've made extensive notes about rewrites in the margins."
"Extensive? Was it that bad?"
"Not at all. Just some suggestions." Devon smiled. He pushed the manuscript gently toward Derick.
Derick flipped through the manuscript quickly. "Wow. There's a lot of red here." He put the work back on the table.
"Red is my favorite color." Devon said proudly.
Derick glanced at him. A malicious smile formed on Devon's lips. Or was it just Derick's imagination?