21/08/2026
𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗥𝗬 | Of the Sea and the Evening
In the beginning, there were two blues, and God saw that the blues were beautiful. And God took the first blue and made of it the Sea, deep and restless beneath the face of the earth, and He took the second blue and made of it the Evening, which descended upon the world when the sun had finished its work. And God placed the Sea beneath the heavens and the Evening above the earth, and He separated them by a great distance, that neither should touch the other. And God saw that it was good.
And came to pass that the Sea looked upon the Evening, and the Evening looked upon the Sea. And though they had never met, each felt within itself the peculiar knowledge of having known the other from before the beginning. And the Sea asked God, “Why have You made me recognize what You have placed beyond my reach?” But God answered not. And the Evening asked, “Why have You given me eyes to behold what I cannot hold?” And God answered not. For God had already placed within them the knowledge of longing, and He knew that some questions are not answered by the One who made them.
And God planted a garden between the Sea and the Evening, and He called the garden Alone. And within the garden grew two trees. The first was the Tree of Wanting, whose fruit was red as the first hurt of the world, and the second was the Tree of Knowing, whose fruit was dark as the hour before dawn. And God commanded the Sea and the Evening, saying, “Of every tree in the garden you may eat, but of the Tree of Knowing you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it, you shall know what it is to desire what cannot remain.”
And the Sea and the Evening heard the commandment, and for a time they obeyed. They walked beneath the trees and spoke of things that had no names. The Sea spoke of the creatures that lived within its depths, and the Evening spoke of the stars that appeared when it came upon the world. They spoke until the darkness became familiar, and neither noticed when their conversations became longer than they needed to be. And God watched them from the heavens, and He knew that the Sea had begun to wait for the Evening, and the Evening had begun to arrive early for the Sea.
And the Serpent came unto them, and the Serpent was not wicked, for it had only the wisdom of creatures who have lived long enough to know that every command contains a question. And the Serpent said unto the Evening, “Why has God forbidden you the fruit of the Tree of Knowing?” And the Evening answered, “Because He has said that we shall know what it is to desire what cannot remain.” And the Serpent said, “But do you not already desire one another?” And the Evening was silent, because the Serpent had spoken the truth.
And the Sea looked upon the Evening, and the Sea wanted to come nearer. Not as the waves desire the shore, nor as the rain desires the earth, but with a terrible wanting that had no label. And the Sea remembered the words of God and wondered whether the desire had been placed within it by God Himself. And it asked, “If You made me capable of wanting, why did You make the thing I want so far away?” And again God answered not.
And the Evening came near to the Sea, and the distance between them became small. And the Evening said, “If we were alone, would you come closer?” And the Sea said, “Yes.” And the Evening said, “If there were no stars to witness us, would you touch me?” And the Sea said, “I would.” And then the Evening asked the question that the Sea had feared since the beginning, “If I let you kiss me, would you?”
And the Sea, which had been restless since the first day, became still.
And it answered, “Yes.”
And God saw them.
And God saw the Sea draw near to the Evening, and He saw the Evening remain. And neither had been commanded to do this, and neither had been commanded not to. And for a moment God said nothing. And the heavens waited, and the stars waited, and the Moon covered her face, for even the heavens knew that some moments are too delicate to be seen.
And the Matchstick, who had been lying beneath the Tree of Wanting, asked, “Who shall make the flame?” But there was no answer.
And the Sea kissed the Evening.
And In that moment the two blues became black, for blue and blue together were the absence of light. But the blackness was not empty, for within it was the warmth of everything they had been afraid to say. And the Matchstick struck itself against the stone, and a small flame appeared, and the flame was the first light that did not come from God. It was small, and shivering, and mortal, and it belonged only to them.
And God looked upon the flame, and He did not extinguish it.
And afterward, the Sea and the Evening knew that they had crossed a boundary that could not be uncrossed. They knew that the garden would never again be the same, and neither would they. The Sea remained the Sea, and the Evening remained the Evening, but each carried within itself the knowledge of the other. And the Sea said, “Will this remain?” And the Evening answered, “Only here.” And the Sea asked, “Will you remember?” And the Evening said, “Always.”
And the morning came, God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light, and the light covered the garden and revealed all that the darkness had hidden. The Sea returned to the earth, and the Evening returned to the heavens, and the great distance between them was restored. And God looked upon His creation and saw that everything remained as He had made it.
But the Sea remembered. And the Evening remembered. And God knew that they remembered.
And God did not ask who had tempted whom, nor did He ask which of them had begun it, for He knew that wanting had existed in them before either had learned its name. And God looked upon the two blues, and He saw that they were no longer innocent, but neither were they empty. For they had learned that to love another is to desire the impossible, and that sometimes the heart chooses the forbidden thing simply because it wants, for once, to know what it feels like to be chosen.
And God saw all that He had made, and behold, it was very good.
And yet, when the evening came again, the Sea looked upward. And the Evening looked downward. And between them remained the darkness. And within the darkness remained the flame.
Literary Work and Illustration | Jeric Jereos Sampior
Layout and Design | Josephine Yrene Bawang