The Fishing Spot That Was Taken

Trevor and Colton fish at the same spot every Saturday. It sits under an old oak tree, past the second bend.

This Saturday, they walk down the path with their gear. When they reach the spot, someone else is already there.

A man sits in a folding chair. Two fishing rods stand next to him. He waves at them in a friendly way.

"Morning," Colton says, trying not to sound annoyed. "This is usually our spot."

"Oh, sorry about that," the man says. "I didn't know. I can move if you want."

Trevor shakes his head. "No, it's fine. We'll just find another spot today."

They walk on, down the river. They pass a small patch of tall grass. The bank there is narrow and a little muddy.

"This doesn't look great," Colton says, frowning at the mud.

They keep walking. They find a flat rock that sticks out over the water. From there, they can see a deep, calm pool below.

"Look at that," Trevor says, pointing at the pool. "Fish probably rest there, away from the current."

They set up their chairs on the flat rock. They cast their lines into the pool. Within ten minutes, Colton's rod bends sharply.

"I've got one!" he shouts, reeling it in carefully.

It is a very big fish. Colton is very happy about it.

"Maybe we need to thank that guy," Trevor says, laughing. They both look back toward their old spot.