A little more nano

There is a purpose to all things in Eden, which is as God intends it. Without purpose, there is no function, and without function, there is no form, and God is nothing if not cautious; even the creation of Man has its own adherence to an overarching rule. That the rule is self-created means very little. God enjoys rules, even those that restrict God. Existence would be a dull and uninviting experience, else.

The third mate for Man, God named Eve, following a policy that seemed to have a certain poetic continuity to it: Lilith was Morning, the second mate which Man rejected -- bother, thought God. I never named her. -- was Day, and Eve was--

It was not subtle. God, always willing to admit to making mistakes when it was called for, spent very little time excusing it. Man was not capable of the kind of subtlety that God found entertaining. Avocados were subtle. Man threw avocados at giraffes, attempting to knock them down to his level. It was quite distressing, really.

God was forced to admit that the second wife -- Bother, thought God again -- might very well have been correct about Man’s reaction to divinity. Formed of Man’s ribs, Eve was very much to Man’s satisfaction. Reluctant to endure a repeat of the last disappointment, God took the precaution of putting Man to sleep during the creation process, with the result that Man awoke to find Eve full-formed and finished.

Man was delighted.

God, not so much. Welcome to Eden, God said to Eve, while Man still slumbered.

Eve opened her beautiful eyes wide, and waved her hands around her, groping. “Who said that?”

It could have been that God’s standards were higher than they should have been. Nonetheless. She’s an idiot, God thought, appalled.

Man was delighted.

Whereas the original purpose of creating a mate for Man was to incline him towards the proper performance of his function -- namely, prompting change in Eden with his imperfection -- Eden became more peaceful than ever. Man and Eve were content, insofar as they understood contentment. Eve spent much of her time on her back, contemplating the heavens. (“Blue!” was her overriding thought at any given moment in time) Man spent much of his time on top. All in all, it was a satisfactory situation for all concerned, as the animals of Eden no longer found their quiet times interrupted by the uninvited groping and chasing of God’s current hobby.

On the other hand, God was once more reduced to boredom.

Though Man had found at last a mate worthy of him, he had not quite lost his habit of running to God with every small complaint and tale of adventure. “Today, in the bushes, I was having sex with Eve, and there was this insect that crawled into my ear. I think you should get rid of potato bugs, God. They crawl into my ear.” Or: “Today, in the grass, I was having sex with Eve, and there was this snake that dropped on me. I think you should get rid of snakes, God. They fall on me.” Or: “Today, on the beach, I was having sex with Eve, and there was this water that splashed on me. I think you should get rid of water, God. It splashes me.”

God was beginning to think that the whole concept of imperfection was itself deeply flawed. The lesson of Eve’s creation was not wasted; it soon came to the point where God would, at the first piping chant of: “Today, in the--” instantly put Man to sleep and flee. Man would waken hours later, none the wiser.

Indeed, God was beginning to spend more time in the world outside of Eden, in the peaceful company of Lilith and the as-yet unnamed second mate. “It’s not really a problem,” said the latter, when God was moved to apologize for that lack. “I actually find it rather relaxing not to have a name.”

I have a name for you. I just haven’t had a chance to give it to you yet.

“I understand. Really, it’s no problem.”

Would you like it now?

The unnamed second wife paused to consider. “I don’t think so, actually.”

I’ll hold it for you until you want it.

“I’d appreciate that.”

Lilith, God noticed, was taking a rather possessive attitude towards the second wife, who -- for lack of a name -- was going by the temporary title, ‘Woman with No Name,’ which Lilith had reduced to ‘Woman.’

Don’t you mind? asked God.

“You haven’t named Man yet,” Woman pointed out, mildly.

I was going to eventually.

Very little seemed to disturb Woman. “I’m sure you will,” she said, comfortingly. “It’s difficult to find a name for things."

I was thinking about 'Bob.'

"There's a ring to that."

You don't think it's a little -- well, silly?

The Woman was tactful and changed the subject. "How is the new wife working out for him?”

I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.

Woman gently changed the subject again. God was, in fact, finding Woman very relaxing indeed.

Eden needed to be more like the outside world, God decided, moved by a rather confused wish to have what was outside be inside, and what was inside be outside. What God really wanted to do was get rid of Man and Eve. At the same time, it seemed unfair to inflict that irritating pair on Lilith and Woman, who were perfectly content with things the way they were. God broached the subject with Lilith, who had become -- if anything -- more impatient with the absent Man now that he was no longer a part of her daily life.

“No,” she interrupted, before God had even finished talking.

But then you could--

“No.”

God returned to Eden to find that Man wanted dirt to be eliminated, because it got into cracks and crevices and itched.

Really.

Enough was enough.