Adam’s brow creased and his right hand rose to his mouth, deeply in thought. “Grass,” he spouted, “Grass.” Then he performed a touchdown-like happy-dance before running over to Eve.
“Eve. Eve, guess what we’re walking on. Come on guess.”
Eve would look down at her bare feet, which she’d just learned not to long ago to be “feet,” and that feet are to be used for “walking,” “running,” and “stomping” on little black things that Adam called “bugs.” She shrugged her shoulders knowing that Adam would hate her for not trying.
“Come one, try to guess.” He hated Eve’s resistance to what he called the “Game of Naming.” She was interested for a little while, a full cycle of the moon to be exact, so Adam had called that period of time “Month.” Eve had been interested in his game for only a month, and he hated her for it, but he didn’t have a name for the feeling he was having towards Eve. He’d have to get to that later. “Please, try.”
Eve just shrugged her shoulders again and looked at Adam with droopy despondent eyes. “Just tell me so that I can know.”
Adam kicked Eve in the side with one of his feet. “That is called, ‘kicking,’” he said, having a moment of brilliance. Adam quickly kicked her again.