He slammed the pen on the desk in despair. Seventeen job vacancies ringed. He didn’t want to do any of them. He wanted to be an adventurer, though he knew, in fact, he wasn’t brave enough to be one.
Down the pub, his friends were discussing the merits of being a writer. “All the adventures you like with none of the risks involved.”
Eureka! He’d be a writer.
“Brave man!” his friends chorused.
Home again, he picked up his pen, thrilled at the prospect of the adventure he was about to embark upon. Little did he realise the risks involved.