Squatters

The coffee wasn't very good that day - mostly burned and tasting a bit like someone hadn't cleaned the pot in a while, but he didn't say anything. He just drank it in silence while staring out the window.

She asked him how the coffee was, explaining that it took longer to make than usual, even though she'd cleaned it the same as she always did.

He told her it was fine and took another sip as if to prove his point. Then he went back to staring out the window.

She turned in her seat to see what was of such interest, but couldn't see anything besides a few birds and a cat or two who seemed more interested in the flowers than the birds. She turned back around and looked at him.

"You're goin' home today, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yeah, you know that."

"I was just making conversation. Are you looking forward to it?"

"I would except for what I have to do."

"Yeah."

"I just wish that old guy hadn't decided to take up residence on my grandfather's place. We've been farming that land for years, it's not like it even looks abandoned."

"You think he's looking for squatters' rights?"

"I don't know what he's looking for, I just wish he'd stopped in someone else's house."

He finished the last bit of coffee and stood to leave.

"I better be goin'. It's a long drive, and I'd like to get there before dark so I can get started in the mornin'."

"Alright." She hugged him. "I'll see ya' when you get back. Don't forget to call me a couple times."

He gave her a quick peck and walked out the door.

"I will."