Shy, wild, and naked, hidden within lies the prodigal child of the Gospel.

After a period of wandering and debauchery, he sees nothing but an abyss.

Deep within his soul, a cry of distress calls for the Savior, the Son.

And in this sanctuary dedicated to the praise of the Son, he cannot help but shed tears of anguish, for these demons ceaselessly haunt him—cries of redemption.

Then, he steps out to catch some air and allows himself to reflect.

He recalls the time when he was still full of innocence, having never tasted the fruit of good and evil. And it is then that he remembers that fateful night, exactly at 10 p.m. It was the kind of night when, according to legend, the devil works best. It was then that he tasted the forbidden fruit. He loved it at first, but soon discovered in that apple a bitter taste that would follow him for a long time. Yet, fortunately, he did not give up.

The apple: he eats it again and again. He does not love it, yet he cannot help but consume it. It poisons him, breaks him, and still he takes more and more.