One Good Place to Live

 

The good place is heaven or hell.

My name is Paris, and I live in Hell.

Christians believe that some people will go to Heaven, and some will go to Hell when they die.

Heaven is full of joy, good food, and friendly people, and everything is like a five-star hotel.

Hell is a 24/7 burning fire and is like the rundown neighborhood where the Devil rules with an iron fist—a lot of suffering, never-ending blazing fire, and torture.

Hell

My first visit was to Hell

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I used the elevator to Hell and was welcomed by a well-mannered woman. And I was shocked to observe that Hell looked like a five-star hotel. I was served and assigned a beautiful room and a maid.

Per instructions, my time in Hell was twenty-three hours. Then, the Hell gatekeeper directed me to visit Heaven. While on the elevator, I was still thinking about the Heaven my Pastor preached on Sundays and wondered how fantastic Heaven would be.

Heaven

I arrived at the gate of Heaven, and the unpleasant gatekeeper directed me to a narrow hallway. I was disappointed with everyone and everything. It was a nice place, but it was not what my Pastor talked about on Sundays. I did not see honey or friendly people.

People in Hell were happier, healthier, wiser, and wealthier than people in Heaven. The unhappy Heaven boss assigned me a nasty room with a dirty mattress and no pillow. 

After 36 hours, the heaven boss asked me which place I wanted to live in forever.

I did not think twice and answered, “I want to live in Hell.” He smiled for the first time and said, “That is a good choice; enjoy.”

My second visit to Hell

Heaven’s gatekeeper escorted me to the Hell elevator, and I was excited to return to Hell.

I arrived at the Hell gate, and the gatekeeper opened the door. I almost passed out.

The new gatekeeper was a Devil who had horns on his head and no teeth. He screamed at me to get inside and band the iron gate on my right hand.

Everything was different from the first time I visited Hell. There was noise, cries, and confusion. Dirty floors, people were half-clothed, and hundreds of people were fighting for small French fries. I was shaken and asked Chief Satan what had happened with what I had seen the other day.

He ignored me and later told me, “The day you came was Christmas; the only day Hell was better than Heaven.”

Disclaimer

The characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any similarity to a real person, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by me.

BY 2023.