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Scents and vibrant colors beckoned to Solomon as he made his way toward the doors at one end of the greenhouse. With every step, he felt a drowsy desire growing in him to pause, just for a moment, to appreciate the beauty and richness in the many flower varieties packed closely together in the raised planters. Vines crossed his path along the ground, forcing Solomon to temper his pace and he found the assault on his senses much more potent as a result. The flash of water sprouting from hidden sprinklers brought Solomon steady and much welcomed respite from the heat and humidity. With the exception of these occasional bursts, it seemed everything conspired to slow him down, to make him stop.

But Solomon was a man with a purpose and focus. He stepped with care over the vines and dismissed the scents and the colors vying for his attention. He remained steadfast in his endeavor to reach the doors. Nothing would keep him from passing through, and whatever he found on the other side he would deal with in similar manner. It was only a matter of time before his alarms sounded in truth, or his wife called, and he would be spirited back to the real world. He needed only to keep moving forward, to gain what he could of his time here, until he was free of this place. And then, armed with the knowledge he gained, he would plan for his next visit. He would be better prepared. Smarter. More cunning.

The plants seemed to grow larger and thicker as he progressed. Where once he could see the doors with clarity down the row he walked, they were now obscured among the many stalks and fronds crowding his way. He spent more and more time moving the plants aside or ducking under them where they crossed his path. At some point, he noticed the raised planters and tables were gone, replaced by planters set into the ground. Giant ferns, taro, and other big leaf plants grew dense at the edges of the planters; their bright yellow, cyan, and magenta leaves set a colorful foundation for the massive flowers rising from the center. The vines crossing the path were growing thicker and more dense, joined by roots escaping from the planters or breaking through the cement. With every step, the plants closed in on Solomon a little tighter. This greenhouse, it seemed, did not want him to leave.

The sprinklers popped on and Solomon paused to appreciate the refreshment they offered. He closed his eyes turned his face upward to feel the drops fall upon it, then opened his eyes when he recognized this was amiss. He was not looking to the roof as he expected, but instead gazed upon an overcast sky through the leaves of the flora towering over him. The droplets he felt were not a sprinkler system coming to life; he was standing outside in the rain, among the crush of a vibrant and colorful forest.

The flowers growing in the centers of the planters were now trees whose leaves took on the colors of the flowers they supplanted. Everywhere was yellow, blue, and magenta, with greens and browns in the stalks, trunks, and branches, providing depth to brilliant ensemble. Gone were the planters. Gone was the walkway. Solomon turned his attention in the direction from whence he came and saw no greenhouse. He had wandered into a forest, and he knew not when nor how it happened.

Continued after the break

Solomon considered how the house had disappeared when he attempted to pass back through the door a third time and decided attempting to return to the greenhouse would prove useless. With a deep breath, he began moving forward once again, though he knew not where forward would take him, or if forward even mattered any longer. Where was forward? There was only movement.

In a few more steps, Solomon passed through a wall of fronds into a clearing. The earth was soft. There were few trees enclosing the clearing, but their trunks were massive and their branches were thick, creating a canopy over the space. Sunlight filtered through the trees as it peeked down from a break in the clouds. The warmth of the sun in contrast with the cool of the rain felt delicious against his skin. He thought of the corridor and its harsh stone and mean light, and decided there were worst places to be trapped in this dreamspace. Now ...

"If only I knew what direction to go," he said out loud, without intention, or perhaps even realization.

A low rumbling rose behind him, then faded. He turned to determine its source, but found nothing in the silence. There was only the trees and the brambles hugging close to their roots. He stood, listening, waiting, and the rumbling rose again. Cracking sounds erupted from the bark on the trunk of the tree before him, and a long fissure split open across the base of it. The rumbling sounded again, as gnarled roots rose from the ground. Solomon watched as the fissure opened wide, revealing a cavity of enormous size within the tree from which the rumbling came. There were more cracking sounds as the entire tree seemed to come alive, with more roots coming up and reorganizing themselves, and branches spreading out, some lowering, some rising. The fissure then came to a close, the rumbling turned to a low hum, then the hum faded away as the crackling, snapping, and shifting of the tree came to an end.

A green snake, bright as neon with deep blue ringlets all down their body, dropped from one of the low branches onto one of the raised roots, slithered under and over and under and over until they perched at the highest point, and coiled their body to raise their head to meet Solomon's gaze.

"SSSSSSSolomon."

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