Kahri O'Brien

The Oak Tree

Smoke filled the cab of the rusted Chevrolet truck. Claire sat with her legs tucked under her and a lit cigarette dangled from the corner of her mouth. On other nights, the truck sat in a path of moonlight, but tonight was different- darker than any night she had seen previously. To her right sat an oak tree — the oak tree. Its lower branches scratch the outside of the truck ever so gently, begging to come inside and get some relief from the rain that hits its leaves.