The Eternal Doom

Chapter 13 MR. WALTER.

Who is dreaming? Who is waking? It's the unraveled myth. Is the devil playing with the angels? Or are the angels playing with the devil? Is this immortal world this dream? Or is it heaven which is a fantasy? Is God the only reality? Or are the humans illusionary? These questions always whisper in the world. When the universe itself answers, the Lord is the only reality. Humans are his creativity. they are humans until God possesses them; and in another way, they are only illusions when they are left without HIM, and the universe is the dream, revolving around the gravity held by the force of the lord. as the earth whispers, "i'm nothing, just a circle of emptiness! but the lord filled me with his kind and commanded me never to fall, as mankind is dreaming of you, and i am turning you to reality for them. i have been waitiing to disappear, but now the lord gripped me for his immortal kind, as he said i am one who can't see his kind fallng, so never collapse, or disappear, as you are the dream for my angels and the reality for mankind."

The weeks passed away; the fog kept on running in Ashland, where the old orphans felt sad, as Ashley had left after spending one more night with them, telling them that she would return again for a visit. All the time the four old people sat together, sharing the memory of Ashley which satisfied them, which made them happy, with the feeling of being together again, and hoping for other faces to return again, back from the adolescent dream OF their old childhood. Every time Ginger saw Mr. Walter becoming like a child again, along with the three others, it gladdened him to find the disappearance of the dreadful moments, which once used to plague Mr. Walter.

The gardener hadn't come for many days; the plants and grass were getting overgrown, along with the grass, and the bushes of roses were dying. "I already told you sir that he isn't going to carry on; I think he got fed up and ran away," Ginger bemoaned to Mr. Walter, scanning the bushes of roses, "but don't worry, I'll find someone mature, who really has experience of gardening."

The flock of the ravens passed over his head, where Mr. Walter motioned towards the dying bushes of roses. He stood in silence with a fretful expression. A few more days passed, when Mr. Walter was having morning tea with the others, tea which Miss Rosella had made. They were having a discussion about the immortality, and about how God was running every dummy alive. even when the heart stops, the blood kept on circulating in the veins, though no reason seemed to appear why they were still alive. it seemed as if someone were somehow not letting anyone die, or keeping the soul inside, just keeping them alive without leaving any trace for the scientists and researchers to solve its mystery. 

The window was giving such a beautiful view; he saw as ginger went outside in search of some other gardener who really could look after the roses. Mr. Walter was sitting watching from the front side window, till he appeared to have vanished away in the steep paths; and before he could remove his vision from there, the glimpse of someone caught him, Mr. Walter gave an incredulous glance, just as he discovered that it was that young gardener, who as entering the garden, pushing at the small door like a fence, between the small wall of rocks, where the clouds of fog were running over there and here, through over the wall. Ginger had already gone in search of some other gardener, apparently unaware that gardener has returned.

After a while Mr. Walter went outside. "Good morning!" he said to the gardener, who was fumbling his hand for something in the case of gardening tools.

"Good morning, sir," he replied plaintively after a little pause, diverting his eyes to the circling ravens in the blurred and lonely sky. "I wondered whether you might have some problem?" Mr.