I was Eve.
I had a beautiful garden all to myself, where fantasy and reality were one, desire and satisfaction were one.
One day I was approached by a serpent. It raised in me a new kind of desire; one that could only be satisfied at terrible cost.
What was I to do? I was unprepared, for I had lived in a garden where neither fear nor restraint existed.
I let the serpent enter me.
This was a new sort of pleasure: wicked.
It was when the serpent was inside me that it persuaded me to eat the apple. For now that I had tasted wickedness, I needed to consume it, to be consumed by it.
But the punishment for wickedness is not sexy; it is horribly prosaic.
Eating the apple transformed my body into that of a man called Adam.
The rest is history. The rest is the world. The rest is me.
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