Two ways my creation could go.
1. All women would be slim
Men will have no ribs
Light would be edible
Night is how you know I am pissed
The woman would not reproduce
There’d be no apple or serpent
The garden is where life begins and ends
Two humans per lifetime
Wages of sin would be death of one not all
Day 7, prayers will be configured as a first sense
2. Create nothing and be sane forever.