The strap of his small olive-green man bag dug deeply into his shoulder and was deceptively heavy. It contained everything he required to create a handsome living in literature, and as a writer. It was filled beyond capacity as his large journal peeked out betraying his trade. Lurking deeply inside dark recesses were his more essential and technical tools of verbal construction, such as his digital Dictaphone, and the android tablet he used for research. Several thick moleskins notebooks with multi-coloured coverers filled the width of the bag. Jammed painfully into the ends were his canvas pen-case and another hard and protective sleeve that contained his most valuable of writing tools, his glasses. Without them, he would not be able to reread or edit the words he wrote. On top of everything and for easy reach was his ageing smartphone. His job was simple; just get the words right.
The heaviest item by far and hiding at the very bottom of his bag was a 28 lb bar of pure gold! Perhaps he had he already made his fortune, was it from writing?