Adam stands before God,
arms crossed over his chest.
"We want back in," he says.

"Oh, really?" asks God.
"On what grounds?"

"We were framed,
bamboozled, duped.
Barely able to tie our own shoes,
and you set up a sting.
We're nought but children–
your children.
Don't you think you took advantage?"

God considers this,
finally admitting:
"Okay. I was wrong."

The gates swing open.

Adam, expecting more resistance, hesitates:
"For real?"

"Yes, for real.
You think I'm above apologizing?
What kind of example would that be?
I'm God, after all."

Eve steps from the undergrowth,
toddlers in tow.
"Thank you," she says.

The first family, hands joined,
walk back in.

The gates swing shut and remain–this time–
unlocked and unguarded.

Text and image © 2011 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.