The rabbis divided the first day of Adam's life into twelve hours, and read his whole arc, from dust to exile, into a single daylight.
In the first hour the dust was gathered from every corner of the earth so that no people could claim Adam as theirs alone. In the second hour it was kneaded into a formless lump. In the third his limbs took shape. In the fourth his soul entered him and the body stirred. In the fifth he stood on his feet for the first time, and in the sixth he gave names to all the animals, a prophet naming the world.
In the seventh hour he met Eve. In the eighth, according to the Tosafot, Cain was born, and with him a twin sister. Abel and his twin came only after the Fall. In the ninth hour Adam was commanded not to eat from the tree. In the tenth he ate anyway. In the eleventh he was judged. In the twelfth he was banished from Eden.
As it is written (Psalm 49:13): Adam abideth not one night in his dignity. He was made and unmade in a single turning of the sun. The first human being lost paradise before the first Sabbath had even begun.
This teaching from Sanhedrin 38b, preserved in Hebraic Literature (1901), holds up a mirror: it does not take years to lose what matters. It can take an afternoon.