In the beginning, when the earth was still young and the skies untouched by sorrow, there was a garden—lush, golden, and alive with the songs of creation. In this paradise walked a man, Adam, the first of his kind. He wandered through the trees, naming the animals, listening to the wind, and feeling a quiet loneliness in his bones.

Then, one day, as sunlight streamed through the fig leaves and the rivers whispered secrets of eternity, Adam awoke to find someone beside him—a woman formed not from the dust, but from his very rib, his own being. She was Eve.

She opened her eyes, and their gaze met like stars colliding. No words were needed. In her eyes, Adam saw the reflection of his soul—curious, wild, and unafraid. She smiled, and the earth seemed to bloom a second time.

They explored the garden hand in hand, tasting the fruits of joy, laughing as the animals played at their feet, and learning the rhythms of each other’s hearts. When Eve braided flowers into Adam’s hair, he whispered, “You are the answer to a question I did not know I asked.”

At night, they lay beneath the blanket of stars, inventing names for constellations and dreaming of children who would one day chase butterflies in meadows not yet made.