THE MIGHTY OAK
By David Taylor
Instinctively he reached for the key and he soon realized the dash area was not
as he had remembered. Crumpled and twisted wreckage around his legs, a shattered
windshield glistening in the moonlight to his right. The fine teak steering wheel
folded over from the impact of his chest. He found himself not only assessing the
vehicle's damage, but his own.
A sense of urgency and panic added to the pain and confusion that was already
overwhelming his aching head.
Attempting escape by reaching for the familiar door handle, only to find his
hand had not the strength to activate the door release mechanism as his arm fell
limp to his side.
Fumbling in the dark, he was able to use his right arm to pull the handle. Relief
came over him when he felt the door latch release it's grip, and the door popped
With his legs, head and chest in agony, he pushed against the door which was
now ajar. He pushed, but he could feel it resisting his efforts.
Adrenalin was being produced nearly as quickly as his blood was being lost. Exiting
the vehicle now became a matter of top priority.
With all his strength, he hurled himself against the stubborn door in effort
to evacuate. Again the door resisted his efforts, only a popping and scraping noise
was heard. Repeatedly he gathered his strength and rammed against it. On the fourth
or fifth attempt, his efforts were finally rewarded when the door suddenly sprung
A wheezing sound came from his chest while the dull throbbing pain intensified
with every breath.
''Calm down and stay focused'' he convinced himself. ''Slow and easy and I can
surely do this.''
For a moment a feeling of salvation crept over his soul while he began to untangle
his body .
Lying across the seat and console, twisting his body around while pulling on
his leg was the solution to finally free his foot from around the misplaced clutch
pedal. By now pain had become a secondary concern as his plan of escape blossomed
Head first he managed to slither across the seat and threshold until he lay in
a heap next to his vehicle of shattered dreams, in a warm pool of blood and oil.
For a moment he featured himself standing up walking around his car to determine
if it was salvageable. How real it seemed as he played out the scenario in his now
Gazing forward and an apology was uttered to the mighty Oak that had severed
his vehicles front half.
His wheezing breaths were becoming increasingly shallow as a gurgling sound now
emanated from his broken chest cavity.
The mighty Oak tree which stood before him offered no assistance to his plight,
unmoved by the catastrophic scenario to which it was forced to bear witness.
With a bouquet tied lovingly above the broad and deep scar across it's trunk,
the mighty Oak stands mournfully as a vigilant but grim reminder to all that pass,
of that tragic night .