Perihelion
What Lena relished most was working up in the loftiest reaches to a red oak. A mid-April morning such as this one made it glorious. She was almost there, too. A winter spent working with weights had strengthened her upper body to facilitate tree-scaling. In a crotch of the trunk, she paused to catch her breath. An antsy hand patted down pockets. Her cigarettes were in the plaid shirt pocket.