‘Faultless’ is a rare accolade. This summer I’ve only read the word on a handful of occasions.
Stormzy’s rap set at Glastonbury was faultless, according to one British journalist. (No, I wasn’t there for my summer holiday.) Fiona Duncan of The Daily Telegraph describes summer service at The Ritz as faultless. (No, unfortunately, I wasn’t there either.) And faultless defines Australian captain Steve Smith’s batting display against England in the first Ashes Test. (Thankfully, I wasn’t there either.)
Even in an era where superlatives are used superfluously, the word ‘faultless’ is rightly reserved for near perfection. We may see fleeting signs of perfection in a musician’s summer concert or in a sportsman’s once-in-a-lifetime redemption performance. But, we are not meant to see perfection each and every day. We shouldn’t become calloused to the wonder of something being truly faultless.
Last Word: wisdom
‘Mum, what should I do when Harry tells me he won’t be my friend unless I let him cheat on …