Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: EXPRESSION (11/12/20)
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TITLE: The Growing Distance | Previous Challenge Entry
By Samuel Kane
11/16/20 -
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Was this the man she loved? What had happened to her husband? Where were the days of laughing together, passing the time under the shade of the trees and within the cool of the steams? When she had fallen in love, she was in paradise. Since then, a dark distance had grown between them.
The woman’s expression was reflected perfectly in the smooth surface of the fruit as it lay between her ten slender fingers. It was an expression of curiosity, wonder, and desire.
“You will not certainly die.”
The smooth, serpentine voice repeated those words into her waiting ear.
She began to salivate in expectation. Her expression shone through with childlike rebellion. Her teeth sank into the tender flesh as the juices trickled down her perfect chin.
She offered it to her husband who shared in the experience with his loving wife.
A taste initially sweet, it morphed into one of dry ashes, bitter to the tongue. They gazed down at their bodies: exposed, fearful, and ashamed.
A voice called for them. Like children aware of the gravity of their decision, they hid. Like a true Father, the voice instantly found them, despite their attempts to evade him, but something was different. Their Father remained distant. He did not embrace them as was his usual behaviour. Painful guilt, sorrow, and loneliness bubbled up within them, choking their excuses. They had let their Father down and they knew for a fact that there was nothing they could do to close the distance.
Embittered by his fall from paradise, the man sought purpose in the toil of his hands, allowing the separation from his wife to grow further. He trudged through the fields and disappeared from sight.
The moments passed. The distance expanded.
“Eve!” he cried, “Come quickly!”
She dropped the simple pot of stew and hurried towards her husband’s voice.
Her heart sank in despair when she saw him.
She fell to her knees and cradled her son’s bloody and broken head in her arms. She clung tighter as she wept bitter tears, afraid to let him go lest his soul depart.
When would she get revenge on that serpent? When would her son crush its head? When would the pain cease? When would she be reunited with her Father once more? When?
In anger, pain and despair, she cried out to the heavens.
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Eveline stood there, her face full of gleeful expectation and desire. Primitive cultures would have frowned upon her actions but she lived among a more enlightened people.
The smooth, serpentine voice spoke those golden words into her waiting ear.
“You live in a free country. You have freedom of expression and you have desires and opinions which need to be expressed. You will not certainly die.”
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