Alan entered the flat rather hesitantly.
"We have eleven people today, so I've put the tea and coffee out here."
Alan gazed despairingly at the gorgeous coffee cups. Fine porcelain, shaped like champagne glasses, they seemed paper-thin. One day he KNEW he'd break one. Please, not today. The hot coffee encouraged him and he entered the room, took a seat and folded his arms. Oh who cares about the body language!
"Who did the assignment?" It was to write a descriptive passage of at least 350 words with no adjectives.
Timorous Alan raised a trembling hand. Four other assiduous people had done their assigned homework.
"Alan, would you like to go first?"
Yes, Alan would! It would get it over with! He gazed hopelessly at his text, a description of a character from his childhood, "Gladys". He thought of all the best Welsh voices: Dylan Thomas, Richard Burton, Andrew Davies (but not too loud or booming). "Good vowels, lad", he told himself, and off he went.
People's comments were very affirming. They always were. It was always the most positive group Alan could imagine. "All are writers." "All do well."
The others read their beautifully constructed texts. One lady kept a count of adjectives. Alan had two, both of which he had knowingly cheated with : velvet and four (twice).
Then the new folk introduced themselves.
A journalist. Alan gasped inwardly!
A novelist. Oh dear...
Another journalist. Help!
Then it was the turn of the... "old folk"
"Cough cough cough I'm a pastor."
"Sorry, what? Did you say a PASTOR?" On reflection perhaps he could have spoken more loudly and clearly.
"Yes, I'm not a writer, though I work with people and with words. Words and people. That's me. I do have a funny sort of eclectic blog."