Pastor: How long were Adam & Eve in paradise?
Child: Till autumn
Pastor: …?…
Child: When the apple is ripe

I like the inevitability of nature here; the apple will fall. Must fall. Mitigating circumstances for our female evil-doer?

I could formulate it another way, bowing to our friends across the pond. I could make the whole idea more compact:

Pastor: How long were Adam & Eve in paradise?
Child: Till the fall.

Warming up to the spiritual-theological-erotic aspects of my novel Verses Nature, and yet, somehow, still shying away:

Away in a manger
no crib for a bed
she eased back his swaddling
so she could give head

Someone told me (hand on heart) that he remembered his very first fellatio. He was a baby. It was his mother. He’s been partial to soft fellatios ever since. No erection. Nothing to do with sex. Much more: the performance of an act of worship. Like drying His feet with her hair. There are those who will insist on downplaying that scene but the bigots’ve got hold of the wrong end of the stick. Again. It’s worship. Like the fellatio on the son. Worship. I’m not the mother of sons, so I guess I’ll never know…  but I LIKE the idea – its tenderness rings true –  and I’m going to use it. (practise first???)

No longer have the time to be afraid of my own ideas. Want to complete this novel within two years. Time’s running out in other ways too. So just do it.