One hundred words to say what matters. Or not.
I had the joy of reading a great deal of the English journalist, G. K. Chesterton. He wrote countless words, and so many of them he termed “ephemeral” -- light and passing. He wrote for newspapers, most of which by day's end were used for all kinds of sordid duties, burned, or tossed. Ephemeral. Words can matter even if forgotten, for humans forget and thus they need reminding. So the paper prints again, GKC says something else soon to be forgotten, and we live another day.
Words. Like life itself, ephemeral.
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