Day Two Writing

They groped the tree in amazement, desiring that the sensation spreading through them as they touched it should remain when they removed their lustful fingers and turned away. Intoxicated by the pleasure of what they were feeling neither of them noticed the steady eyes of the serpent watching the frenzied desperation of their embrace.


It was his cold calculated laughter which broke their stupor and caused their eyes to widen in stunned surprise while their hearts pounded in their ears. They stood silently watching while the serpent casually approached and tenaciously curled himself around the base of the tree, his tongue flicking in and out he faced them with a carefully placed look of satisfaction and lifted his head upwards to scrutinize the actions of the man and the woman God had blessed with his favour.


“Don’t let me stop you.” He sneered as he turned from them and made his way up the trunk of the tree to embrace a heavily laden branch. He rubbed the side of his head against a luscious piece of fruit, closing his eyes and breathing deeply he inhaled it’s scent and began to sink his teeth into it.


A strained sound was released from her mother‘s throat, “Stop!” she screamed, “Stop! Don’t eat it!”


The serpent stopped and slowly turned towards her, examining her face. Her wide eyes were full of alarm and her features were a portrait of panic and astonishment. Genuine concern and naivety appeared in the design of her face, innocence mingled with curiosity and a thirst she would not recognize, a greed. Hatred for her large doe eyes and unaffected stature rose up within his heart. This creature who stood before him now, dumb and powerless, was the creature God had designed to rule with him. Unbelievable. Slowly the serpent shook his head.


“Why?” He asked.


The silence that met his answer was the effect he had desired to retrieve.
“Be-because…” She stammered. “God instructed us not to eat of the fruit. If we eat it we will die.”


The serpent morphed his countenance into one of deep thought and concern.
“What is,” He began then shook his head, “What is ’dieing’?”


The woman was silent. Her carefully formed lips pursed themselves into a cautious frown and she cast her eyes downwards. The serpent could see the depth of her confusion and he fed off it, sucked in it’s essence. This torment he was initiating was sweeter than the fruit itself. The taste of vengeance on his lips tasted more intoxicating than the cool bitterness of the fruit ever could. This was beautiful deception. Beautiful. And he relished every minute of it. The woman turned her eyes towards him once again, victory revealed in the ignorance of her confusion.


“I don’t know.” She finally admitted, casting a glance to the man, who shrugged in agreement.


The serpent looked coyly at them. “Then why are you afraid to eat the fruit? How terrible could it be?” The woman began to argue then stopped short and stood still, silent.


He could gauge her thoughts, they unfurled before him in all their innocence and foolishness and they irritated him as much as they delighted him. She was fighting to make sense of the confusion, attempting to understand. The man was different. He stood silently. Watching with little expression, hearing with minute care. His fingertips were no doubt tingling, preoccupied with the desire to continue stroking the tree. He did not want to stop and question, he wanted to allow his senses to guide him. He wanted to make up his own mind, he wanted to exercise his power and choose the tree. Choose death. The conscience of the woman was louder. She enjoyed the sensations of the tree but had withdrawn her hand at the guilt that it provoked. Had argued with the urge to lash herself to death, countered it with what she knew to be true, God had told her not to eat or even to touch the fruit. Now she was faced with a decision and an uncertain consequence. She required convincing. She desired to hear the serpent speak what she now found burning inside of her. To voice the excuse, the annulment of her fears, that she could not speak aloud herself.


“God does not want you to eat the fruit because you will die.” The serpent scoffed, “God does not want you to eat the fruit because he knows if you do you’ll be just like Him!” he hissed. They looked up at him, faces visibly reflecting their astonishment as the thought slowly processed.


“Here.” the serpent said, knocking a luscious piece of fruit to the ground at their feet. “It’s better than bark.”


They watched as the snake lowered himself from the branches of the tree and confidently left them to their own devices and then, silently, they stood side by side, feeling the sting of what the serpent had suggested. Suddenly the electric aura of the tree felt tainted and dull. The man reached out his hand once more and fulfilled the craving of his finger tips. The rough bark of the tree no longer held the same appeal to him as it had before. The intoxicating power which had seeped through his fingertips into his veins had become nothing more to him than a vile bitterness. He stared at his fingers, his carefully fashioned fingers against the rough hewn bark. Stared hard at them, willing himself to engage the rush of emotions he could not reconcile as they began to rise up within him.


The woman studied his face, noting the tightening of his jaw as he clenched his teeth, the furrowing of his brow and the wild look of his eyes, a look that resonated within her own soul with force. She shared his sentiments, she felt what he was feeling. She glanced from the darkness of his face, to his hand against the tree. His fingers were spread wide, his palm pushed flat and she determined that the magic of the tree had receded to it’s core. They were trapped on the outside of the tree, unable to enter into it, unable to push through the bark and feel that which they now craved to feel.


She crouched down, and eyed the fruit laying on the ground. The arguments which had burned so furiously before and now cooled severely and she found herself strangely serene as she extended her hand to retrieve the fruit from its fallen state. She picked it up gingerly and cradled it within her hands reflecting on its pleasing form and attractive colouring, noting with confidence that she had not changed yet. The fruit now lay within her hands but she herself was not ’dead’. Tentatively she raised the fruit to her lips and closed her eyes as her teeth encompassed the sweet flesh of the fruit inspiring tangy nectar to run freely down her chin and neck. A pleasurable groan escaped from her lips and she raised her face, grinning triumphantly to meet the eyes of the man who now watched her with great curiosity. She offered up the fruit to him, nestled pleasantly within her hands, and beckoned him to receive and to taste of its goodness for himself with her shining and joyous eyes.


The man hesitated only a moment before accepting her offering and sinking his teeth into the flesh of the fruit. His face lit up in amazement and the woman laughed merrily at his astonishment as he swiftly downed the rest of it’s goodness. When all that remained was the wet sticky juices covering his face and hands, he met the eyes of the woman and declared the desire they both harboured inside of them, “More!”


They raided the heavily laden branches of the tree, seeking the fruit of the juiciest appearances and richest colouring. They ate feverously stuffing fruit in faster than they could swallow it down. With faces, neck and chest stained with the wet juice of the tempting fruit, their stomachs distended and aching, they dropped to the ground exhausted and ill.

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But her womb was full now. She scarcely believed it to be so, but she knew that it must be because she could feel the presence of the child inside of her. When she spoke to him, he answered. When she prayed for him she could feel his joy. From within her womb he advised her, teaching her and preparing her heart for the coming labour and birth. He prophesied to her. He called her to repentance and he called forth that which was detestable within his sight to be held accountable.


Word Count: 2927

Love Always,
Cole.