“People can’t write complete stories in one hundred words,” Matthew said, shaking his head.
“Of course they can, Grandpa.”
“Stories need to have beginnings, middles, and ends. There’s no way to do that in such few words, Julia.”
Julia sighed, then wrote in her notebook. She counted, scribbled out words, added others. When she finished, she handed it to Matthew.
There were tears in his eyes as he read a tale of his birth, finding his first and only love, then losing her to cancer a month earlier.
“Well, I’ll be,” he said, pulling out his handkerchief. “Guess you can.”