The night sky was heavy with the smell of smoke. During summer, forests dry up and the slightest change can make them flood with a sea of red-hot flames. After the thirsting, rebellious outbreak, no noises are heard and in the dead silence, heavy smoke clogs the air leaving all senses but taste numb. The charred air won't clear before two days - a relatively quick mourning period - leaving the soil time to rest before for the next generation of warrior plants bursts out from under their ancestor's ashes. But meanwhile, under the weight of the lingering fumes and over the breeze of the soil's breath, the Snake Plant lies sleeping, a shriveled old thing, caked in a layer of black and looking as burnt as all the other organisms shrouded in smoke. Slowly, the sun carries on its cyclic journey, guilty for the wreckage left behind and reluctantly leaves the moon to endure the effects of the day.

The night sky was heavy with the smell of smoke, the feel of it, the taste of it, the sound of it. As the moon ascended, the smoke lit up like a pool of sliver, and filtered pure beams of moonlight down to the damaged ground. The silence of the night seemed to have a focus now and the gaze of the dark forest rested on a shriveled and black plant. It has a snakelike appearance with a thing long stem that rests on the ground for the heavier sections of the plant. It leaves the earth a little upright at its roots but then splits in five and each stem falls back to the ground under the weight of three leaves, one of them pushed into the air by a thinner stem still. Each main stem then fights to get even higher than before only to fall back down again. Only after making a closing roller coaster spiral with some leaves jutting up perpendicularly to the ground, do the stems finally conquer gravity and support a bulbous protrusion proudly in the air. The forest holds its breath, watching the filtered moonbeams twinkling through the silver fumes until finally, a bright beam shines over the plant.

The bulbous protrusions erupt and just like that, the Snake Plant starts slithering. All of its stems move towards the root of the plant and a hypnotising hissing comes from the bulbs of the plant, now fully open and unfurling thin and glowing electric-purple petals. The stems slither to the roots of the plant and then start to rise up in the air, twisting and twining themselves as the strive to get closer to the moon, in vain. At the center of their bulbs, a bright and flame-like center is revealed and from it glowing spores start to float away. All around the forest dim beams of electric-purple and flame-yellow seem to jump out of the silver smoke and glowing spores float aided by the thicker air in search of an adventure.

The forest heaves a wondrous breath and falls into deep slumber and the next day wakes up to the feeling of normality, sees the sun carrying out its eternal duty and wonders if any experiences in life are really more than just a dream.