Yet Another Account of the Fall

God walked in the garden, calling his children.

He knew where they were, but he wanted them to know where he was, so he kept calling, pretending to search for them.

He found them huddled behind some bushes, arguing about fashion design. 

"Hello," God said.  "What's happenin'?"

"We're making clothes," Adam said.  "Eve refuses to cover her chest unless I do too.  Can you set her straight?"

"So you have discovered shame," God said.  "Any particular reason?"

"Nope," Adam said. "We just thought you'd find us more presentable if we covered up."

"And you discovered lying, too," God said. "That's a lot in one day.  Did you eat some of that fruit I warned you about?"

"No," Adam said quickly.

"No, of course not," Eve echoed.

Good stared at them sadly, close to tears.

"It wasn't my fault," Adam said.  "She made me do it!"

"No, I didn't.  I just suggested," Eve jumped in.  "And anyway, what's the big deal?  We're OK.  We didn't die."

"But you will," God said.  "And until you do, you will know shame and blame and deception, and the universe will throw your evil back at you.  What was a gift will now have to be earned, with sweat and toil and tears."

"It's not fair!" Eve exploded.  "Why did you let that stupid snake in here?  He told me you were jealous, and it looks like he was right.  If this was so important, why didn't you protect us?"  She looked at God with pleading eyes.  "We didn't really eat the fruit, you know.  We were just taking little bites to see what it was like."

"You have now entered a new phase of your existence," God said with kindly finality.  You can't stay here any longer."

Eve made one final effort to set God straight.  "You're over-reacting, if you ask me."  

God did not answer.  He made them clothes of fur to keep them warm, and escorted them out of the Garden.

"You wanted to do your own thing," God said. "Now you can."

"I always wondered what was out here," Adam said.  "It's so big!  How will we find our way?"

"By trial and error.  Be as kind to each other as you can.  You are morally independent now, and you will need each other more than ever."

Adam took Even's hand.  "Let's go,"

Eve started to cry.  "Can't we compromise?  I didn't mean what I said."

"You're on your own now," God said gently. "Free to find your own way."

"No more talks in the evening?" Adam asked wistfully.  

"No.  But if you sit quietly and listen, you will hear the echo of my voice."