The Beginning of The Bulgogi

There is most probably a heaven. I say most probably because I've seen the other end. There is most definitely a hell. I've traveled and wandered far enough in my time to find myself at its gates numerous occasions. On a side note - there are many entrances to hell, but I haven't found an exit sign anywhere. This however, is a story of an entirely different matter.

In addition to the probable existence of heave, the definitive existence of hell and its many gates there is of course, this life. But, there is also the in between or the in betwixt, a middle zone. This is the story of the middle zone and my quest for the greatest Beef Bulgogi.

I have a good hunch, call it an inkling, a premonition or even a strong faith in the existence of paradise. The reason for this is my travels through the middle zone. This middle zone is a bit of a testament to the grace of God and His desire to see everyone make it into heaven. That, or it's a cruel game similar to what cable companies play when you call to figure out why your monthly bill keeps inching up every month. The middle zone is a holding zone. There are some people who in this life do enough stupid and evil to get a ticket straight to hell. There's no saving them. The Hitlers, the Neros, the Caligulas, the Stalins and the Dursts of this world punched their tickets with all of their misdeeds. It's hopeful, unless of course God and Satan have set up this in between area as a sort of No Man's Land that houses the everlasting souls of people that neither side really wants to put up with. That's not out of the realm of possibilities but, I got to have faith. The guy who introduced me to the middle zone told me it was a holding zone for people to work out all of their flaws so that they could eventually make it upstairs. Of course there are those who have found their ticket punched on the express route to heaven as well. But, for those who are of enough importance, but not quite of enough character there seems to be this place.

This is the story of this place. Some call it purgatory. Some call it Hell (though it most certainly isn't). Most don't bother naming it; they simply exist in it. I can't do that because if I were to do just this, then how would this incredibly important story be told? How would you ever come to hear of this place? So for our purposes, I'll call it The City.