No excellent garden ever existed in the face of the earth until the time of John Pixwell. It is a colourful garden with budding petals of red roses, and unfolding florets of yellow flowers. Attractive fronds with a welcoming atmosphere makes you gasp for a breath as you home in. You will behold a perfect geometry, with dwarf and tall herbaceous plants conspicuously lined along the bylanes with a compelling fictitious appearance.
From the auspices of the garden, you can see the expanse of the sea quite refreshing. The tides rock sea waters to and fro as you enjoy the evening breeze...and a bright glare of beaming rays of the sunshine gleam through an artefactually crafted crevice in a multistorey skyscraper. Before you built castles on air, this is only a glimpse from an overhang point. The skillfully crafted mental architect is laid at a more perfect foundation.
Stories foretold that John Pixwell was born in the remotest part of west California where his father, now a veteran farmer, tilt orchards and planted lawns. As the glassy mansions meet a quick'ning ray of light, through a marvelous walkway lined with marble walls and golden pavements, which stands out as a perfect Eden which cannot be painted on human imagination.
I remember vividly how the preacher asked with a falling still solemn voice:"Don't you want to be in heaven to behold the glorious appearance of our Almighty God? Do you want to quench your lifelong thirst from crystal clear rivers and walk on the streets of gold?
Just imagine a world without the sun and the moon, no twinkling stars and a darkly gleaming landscape. A place where the soothing voices of the great celestial choir echo in praise like the melodious chirping birds. This is a place I long to live for the rest of my life. I have examined it but it is still hidden beyond my vicinity although my curiosity is deeply ignited as I rest my head for now"
My mind was still wandering through the lustrous and beautifully charming realms of life as I take a sip of warm water to send away the chills. Still wasting some hours playing a mere Jack. My heart pounded rhythmically at the glance of a rising tornado and anxiety caught me up in haste avoiding a sharp look of a picture shying away at the wall.
A provocative shrill was still ringing in my mind as I pondered over the last paragraph of the book...when will we visit the Pixwells? A bang hit my head unconscious. "Now Johannes, we have substantial evidence to convict you tomorrow" the sergeant sighed.
" maybe, you may face the wrath of clammy cells for thirty years". I imagined that heaven has slipped my hand in the twinkling of an eye as the police land cruiser rumbled past the screeching gates. I smelled fresh air for the last time waiting for the pronouncement of my judgement.
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