Barn Dumping

What is that truck doing?

The truck was large. The flat bed had fabricated wooden sides. It backed up to the barn, and in full daylight, no less! Surely, my late father would not have allowed strangers to traipse onto his property. Since it was mine now, I had to lay down the law.

Peering inside, three men jumped out of the cab and two of them quickly got to work hefting huge items and throwing them on top of piles of other junk. They were using the barn to store their trash?

"Hey! Get out of my barn!" I stormed at them. They snickered. What's a 5-foot young woman to 3 burly brutes. "You can't do this! This is trespassing and dumping!" They ignored me and kept working. "I'm calling the police!"

"Listen, lady," the scrawniest of the three addressed me after he'd climbed in the cab and the other two followed suit. "We're just doing our job."

"License plate number 3A47S5." The truck began to move, forcing me to back away. "And it's expired!"

Hurt and confused, I left the barn to watch them speed off.