When Eve first bit into the apple, nothing happened.

Her teeth broke through the crisp peel with a satisfying crunch before sinking in to the succulent inside of the fruit shaded forbiddingly red. Hand cupped protectively over this sacred morsel, she held it out to the light to admire it further; its round curves caught the golden fire of the orb resting dolefully along the horizon and lit up in gold. The center, however, popped out in a contrasting shade against the light, having transformed into a dark satin red. Eve didn’t remember noticing that before.

A shiver shook through her body then, and her eyes left the apple from its frozen trance to survey the garden around her. The trees, as majestic and powerful as ever, loomed over her with its towering branches and poised leaves that stretched towards the light. An omnifarious blend of bushes –cranberries, blueberries, lilac, evergreen, holly- dotted the area in a picturesque manner; roses with their fragrant scents and vivid colors cluttered in patches. Though she was cold, there was no breeze. A peculiar stillness in the air froze the leaves and the petals, and the area beneath the trees suddenly looked dark; the stems of the roses suddenly grew sharp spikes.

I won’t be able to pluck them anymore, frowned Eve.

The grass now had patches of dark and light, and noticing she was standing in a darker one, Eve moved uncertainly onto a lighter patch where instant warmth flooded into her body. She looked up towards the sun, which she has seen every day in the center of the sky, and strangely enough, her eyes hurt. Her hand instantly came up to shield them from the blinding rays, and she looked away, blinking away white lights.

She looked down abruptly at the apple clenched in her right hand. She held it up to eye level and scanned it. Where had those bruises come from? Where her mouth had left a bite, the edges of the yellow patch were also tainted with brown. When the Snake first showed her the fruit, it was flawless. Her mouth had salivated at such shiny red armor that beckoned her with gleaming promises of delight and pleasure. It bought her closer and closer before she seized it as her own and clutched it to her heart that thumped with jittery anticipation.

Now, with fear, Eve dropped it, and it fell onto the ground with a dull, heavy thump. How could she have eaten such a thing without washing it first? What sorts of creatures have gotten there first? She ate the dust of their footprints –a spider’s eight legs along with its cobweb, a bird’s beak that just devoured a worm- and now all sorts of grub must be living in her stomach right now.

Her hand fluttered down to her stomach, and with horror, she realized she was naked.