Joe sat on the slope by the side of the pond. His fishing rod was in the water, balanced so he didn't need to hold it, but safe enough so that he would be able to react when he got a bite.
The pond was his favourite place to fish. He never caught much, but he loved the serenity. It was quite a large pond. When it was a little misty, like it was on this day, you couldn't make out the other side.
He sat and drank cans of beer like most of the others nearby. The one thing that set Joe apart from the other fishermen was his reason for being there. He was there because he liked being outdoors. The others were there to avoid spending time with their partners. Joe didn't have a wife or girlfriend and he couldn't understand those who did not wanting to spend time with them.
He reached forward into the carrier bag he had dangled in the water and grabbed a chilled beer.
As he did so something roared overhead, narrowly missing him.
Joe sat back up just in time to see a red Vauxhall Corsa splash into the pond twenty feet in front of him.
Drinking had saved his life.
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