#140chars

Can Twitter have a beneficial effect on the evolution of human communication? Can something of true value be captured in a Tweet?  Instead of finding out, here are 140 character studies in 140 characters or less.

140: He had a flair for dramatic endings, but paying for all the dropped microphones left him destitute. #140chars pic.twitter.com/Xwoe7wNSG3

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 2, 2016

136: He was the kind of person anyone would vote first off the island. #140chars pic.twitter.com/CjHPXlxxvi

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) June 11, 2016

132: She said "Tell me the truth," but she meant "Tell me pretty things." #140chars pic.twitter.com/kNFcaJ2Bsg

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) May 19, 2016

128: He was the kind of gardener who took credit for the wildflowers and blamed the rest on the weeds. #140chars pic.twitter.com/EeGcOLNR1k

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) April 28, 2016

124: His soul was a haunted home: rattles, moans, ectoplasm, but mostly just rotten walls and empty rooms. #140chars pic.twitter.com/6tON2yMzcP

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) April 9, 2016

120: Even his skeletons had skeletons in their closets. His life was a nesting doll of lies. #140chars pic.twitter.com/usDZBcxSR7

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) March 18, 2016

116: He could take things apart, tell you at length how it worked, but he was useless at fixing anything. #140chars pic.twitter.com/fibVe7y9E8

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) February 19, 2016

112: He left his shirt untucked and shaved every other morning. He would show them he couldn't be tamed. #140chars pic.twitter.com/eifzuebMD0

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) January 29, 2016

108: He was the kind of person who cradled guitars at parties, waiting for the right moment to exist #140chars pic.twitter.com/5x8G0zqP7h

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) January 19, 2016

104: He thought Monday had been power, corruption and lies, but he woke up to find Tuesday was blue, too. #140chars pic.twitter.com/3aHZ3cnjAt

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) January 5, 2016

100: He was like the finest eggnog: craved all year and then loathed when he arrived for the holidays. #140chars pic.twitter.com/ymKmEVR3Of

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) December 21, 2015

#096: He'd steer every conversation back to "the hike," like he was the only person to ever be lost. #140chars pic.twitter.com/UsUQzvnM7X

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) December 6, 2015

092: He treated goodbyes like a marathon. He was always last to leave and his hugs were murderous. #140chars pic.twitter.com/fV9eMw4dB0

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) November 26, 2015

088: By the fourth cup, he was adrift in a paranoid universe. He refused to switch to decaf. #140chars pic.twitter.com/aiQmytWiJ3

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) November 17, 2015

084: He lived like a child playing marbles: smash into things, take what you can and leave them crying. #140chars pic.twitter.com/iK0aqCQnw9

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) November 7, 2015

080: She liked her sweets, but her soul was puckered with cavities. #140chars pic.twitter.com/9dl05o3hYW

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) October 31, 2015

076: All his superheroes were liars in disguise. He felt weak and ignorant, but that could change. #140chars #elxn42 pic.twitter.com/tI2gWop6IW

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) October 18, 2015

072: He had been full of potential. But this late in the game, he was now full of shit. #140chars pic.twitter.com/tO5MR0cRze

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) October 9, 2015

068: A train had taken him away from here, but a train couldn't bring him home. #TomWaits #140chars pic.twitter.com/e2nsw1CJaA

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) October 1, 2015

064: He worked. Sometimes he took holidays and stayed home. That was about as magical as things got. #140chars pic.twitter.com/L832de76F7

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 24, 2015

060: He voted Green, read Thoreau and watched PBS, but utter the word "bear" and out came the Winchester. #140chars pic.twitter.com/4RlENeVAP0

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 17, 2015

056: He was born to run and he danced in the dark. He was a rebel. He was also sweaty and pale. #theboss #140chars pic.twitter.com/9H8AJ2KtWK

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 12, 2015

052: He was always prepared to ruin a good time. He was like a raisin lurking inside a butter tart. #140chars pic.twitter.com/zyKhXrq95G

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 4, 2015

048: He was a natural, but somewhat less than perfect. His mistakes, though few, were immutable. #malamud #140chars pic.twitter.com/qjluP18rv5

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 30, 2015

044: He liked to invent words to describe how a wine tasted, but he wouldn't drink any fucking Merlot. #140chars pic.twitter.com/wstlQNbIgp

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 22, 2015

040: Apologies came easy to him. So did wicked deeds. He had all the trappings of civilization. #140chars pic.twitter.com/C5uRSiRgn1

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 13, 2015

036: He was immunized to others' words, but his mailbox overflowed with self-addressed self-rejection. #140chars pic.twitter.com/AkGoHMhm9j

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 7, 2015

032: He wore carefully ironed ironic t-shirts like the finest cashmere. He was retro before it was cool. #140chars pic.twitter.com/cgQzJpCKjI

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 2, 2015

028: He had an Icarus complex. And a Daedalus one, too. He was two halves of a shattered Grecian vase. #140chars pic.twitter.com/eATJseLHFC

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 28, 2015

024: He used to be the loudest one chanting at protests. Now he quietly cashes his cheque and checks boxes. #140chars pic.twitter.com/R96jzjiuK2

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 22, 2015

020: He walked the fine line between potential and waste. He still had dreams of making the big leagues. #140chars pic.twitter.com/Upc3SfnIVU

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 14, 2015

016: He wore that gruff act that suggested he was some old softie. But inside, he was all kinds of bastard. #140chars pic.twitter.com/EbuZ4wQedm

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 9, 2015

012: He didn't speak his mother tongue and no longer spoke to his father. He was in constant irresolution. #140chars pic.twitter.com/wWaWlc7PqA

— harkback (@hark_back) July 1, 2015

008: He clutched memories close to him in that particular way one gathers enemies. He remembered it wrong. #140chars pic.twitter.com/xGqIbpvteu

— harkback (@hark_back) June 26, 2015

004: He'd been to a surgeon, but he was too afraid of losing himself. He never did get used to the stares. #140chars pic.twitter.com/x62V7v7GKN

— harkback (@hark_back) June 19, 2015

139: He was second to a party, next to last in line, terrible but not the worst. He lived penultimately. #140chars pic.twitter.com/qyYS8xpzso

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) June 28, 2016

135: He danced, he stung, he shook the world. He was so mean he made medicine sick. #140chars #ali pic.twitter.com/6UNKUAoitS

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) June 4, 2016

131: He said "I'm just being honest" but what he meant was "I'd say anything to hurt you." #140chars pic.twitter.com/RoAfrKHcYB

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) May 13, 2016

127: He would grunt and fuss for the heavy load and leave the rest. He was all fanfare, no symphony. #140chars pic.twitter.com/fPkOa14uxF

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) April 22, 2016

123: He wore a rotisserie of cufflinks. He was the kind of a leader capable of little, excepting volume. #140chars pic.twitter.com/RzAi91WF96

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) April 6, 2016

119: He seemed as serious as a neutron bomb. He wore sunglasses so you couldn't see his dancing eyes. #140chars pic.twitter.com/aB83j5k0Ep

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) March 10, 2016

115: How nice, they'd think, when he picked flowers. But he really just liked feeling things die. #140chars pic.twitter.com/OCiIdosoKt

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) February 14, 2016

111: She had been cold and distant, ever since she moved to Reykjavik. #140chars pic.twitter.com/pT0VNoIgzr

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) January 27, 2016

107: She'd talk for hours without saying anything. She nipped at the edges, could never reach the core. #140chars pic.twitter.com/sZ0f9hiC8W

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) January 16, 2016

103: The house stank like old cheer, and so did he. He still had 365 chances to get it right. #140chars pic.twitter.com/gRZyfgmUA8

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) January 1, 2016

099: He used the word "tradition" to refer to anything he did that seemed painfully ignorant. #140chars pic.twitter.com/SYxJk7zqxz

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) December 15, 2015

095: Tinsel and lights and carols blaring. He found it the most cheerful time of year to be miserable. #140chars pic.twitter.com/1vNWj7bwxx

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) December 4, 2015

091: She still had the baby blanket her mother made. She'd keep it a few more years, then give it away. #140chars pic.twitter.com/kG53bqnqw3

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) November 22, 2015

087: On weekends, she wandered junk shops, looking for cast-offs, rejects and other familiar things. #140chars pic.twitter.com/w3tWbxLd6e

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) November 14, 2015

083: He had a sense of humour so dark it was like a personal black hole. Even laughter couldn't escape. #140chars pic.twitter.com/M2kUBcQZ67

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) November 5, 2015

079: He haunted all the same old places. They haunted him too. #140chars pic.twitter.com/xSGRlUEgnT

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) October 28, 2015

075: He was mildly but consistently unpleasant. Time with him was like walking with sand in your shoes. #140chars pic.twitter.com/V16Cmpqs1Y

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) October 17, 2015

071: He had all the classics. They looked good on his shelf. The Archies he kept under the bed. #140chars pic.twitter.com/UgqDEfsUDW

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) October 8, 2015

067: She'd craft happy emojis with her voice, like a child blowing bubbles. You'd never know she was cruel. #140chars pic.twitter.com/Daz5OmvdqA

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 30, 2015

063: He'd make you feel like a Sankara stone and then be the guy who'd avoid you in a grocery store. #140chars pic.twitter.com/WqdCapQh4U

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 22, 2015

059: He was not alone at being alone, but he managed to make it look more lonely than anyone. #ThePolice #140chars pic.twitter.com/kzHtVAYmUn

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 16, 2015

055: He invested in gym memberships. He was terminally on a diet. Good health was his El Dorado. #140chars pic.twitter.com/BMJyhoKgeM

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 10, 2015

051: She was like a stepping razor. She was teased for being small, but she was dangerous. #petertosh #140chars pic.twitter.com/hKP1blOJwg

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 3, 2015

047: You could trust him with your life, but not your pickles. He'd eat them all and slurp the juice, too. #140chars pic.twitter.com/TYDmLNHSfJ

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 28, 2015

043: She stewed in her own sour air, like a person in a bell jar. Her soul reeked of hyperbole. #plath #140chars pic.twitter.com/DdZz9IIJPf

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 20, 2015

039: He saw himself as a hard working, sweet loving man. But mostly he was tired and lonesome. #140chars pic.twitter.com/D6AjmreSFR

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 12, 2015

035: He was lacking in empathy, so he tried walking a mile in someone else's shoes. He got warts. #140chars pic.twitter.com/mI0v1WMjB1

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 6, 2015

031: He was the kind of man who wore a belt and suspenders. He didn't even trust his own pants. #henryfonda #140chars pic.twitter.com/OyIqXIo8CM

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 1, 2015

027: She appeared content, but in the depths, she compared herself to everything around her. #140chars pic.twitter.com/lNrRMSvT86

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 26, 2015

023: He always wanted to be a carpenter, but all his father taught him was how to break things. #140chars pic.twitter.com/jHOzsUAkl9

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 19, 2015

019: He bragged about his survival skills to friends in the city, but here he was. Lost again. #140chars pic.twitter.com/xdKrE0m1C9

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 12, 2015

015: He missed the raves, the sweat of strangers' bodies. He had a mortgage now. It seemed a rough trade. #140chars pic.twitter.com/IQrnpLNVki

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 5, 2015

011: He'd been a violent man. He collected regret. Now he liked silence and good coffee. Dark nights. #140chars pic.twitter.com/FVJHl7YqxU

— harkback (@hark_back) June 30, 2015

007: Midlife crisis, she said. But he wasn't hurting anyone, and he was having a hell of a lot of fun. #140chars pic.twitter.com/A30FJlFfTl

— harkback (@hark_back) June 25, 2015

003: His first marriage taught him of consequence. After, he learned to do harm from afar. He felt little. #140chars pic.twitter.com/OBQrt20Iin

— harkback (@hark_back) June 18, 2015

138: After he lost, he was inconsolable. So were they, because he kept the ball. #140chars pic.twitter.com/1x4lZtNohV

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) June 26, 2016

134: He spent most of his time thinking about the past. He was a time traveller without a DeLorean. #140chars pic.twitter.com/kllC3P9rkq

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) May 31, 2016

130: His sole purpose in life was to occupy the washroom, at the precise moment when it was most needed. #140chars pic.twitter.com/5zAOqdfE6y

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) May 10, 2016

126: His confidence was a three-masted ghost ship sailing on the endless brine of his incompetence. #140chars pic.twitter.com/h890cijZyN

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) April 17, 2016

122: He was the sum of his parts, all of them assholes. #140chars pic.twitter.com/6pm7zpdRqi

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) April 3, 2016

118: He was at the centre of a personal universe, the hero in his own story and a pain in everyone's ass. #140chars pic.twitter.com/YfRk8BYL5t

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) March 3, 2016

114: His life was like an endless car ride. He longed for the slow, glorious relief of the next rest stop. #140chars pic.twitter.com/LqvBQqmMib

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) February 11, 2016

110: He treated good friends like cheap cigarettes. Enjoy, destroy, bum some new ones. #140chars pic.twitter.com/h6ZKKGaMzx

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) January 23, 2016

106: His obit read sly and cunning and other words to describe a person who was hunted right to the end. #140chars pic.twitter.com/HfBQq72nPW

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) January 14, 2016

102: The weather outside was delightful, but the fire he lit was horrifying and unquenchable. #140chars pic.twitter.com/dcKrEdHhKz

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) December 28, 2015

098: That was the year she shattered all the ornaments with a ball peen hammer. It still made them laugh. #140chars pic.twitter.com/R126ECWNVX

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) December 12, 2015

094: Even deathly ill, she showed up for work. She was the kind of martyr who liked company. #140chars pic.twitter.com/8nGtMp5Szw

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) December 2, 2015

090: Winter blues, summer sadness, spring and fall doldrums. Every season was a personal insult to him. #140chars pic.twitter.com/iGReq1QPHe

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) November 20, 2015

086: He hated being a passenger. He hated driving. He hated going anywhere. He liked gathering moss. #140chars pic.twitter.com/hMN0k8nwvm

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) November 12, 2015

082: He walked so people could hear him. He could make the smallest tasks look like an ascent of Everest. #140chars pic.twitter.com/z6tXutchlo

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) November 3, 2015

078: The farm came to him when his parents died. The land was full and fertile. He was empty and fallow. #140chars pic.twitter.com/bWUlGBQv02

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) October 26, 2015

074: He counted on others to pay for his breakfast. He ate loudly, with relish, and alone. #140chars pic.twitter.com/OKm83tlsUw

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) October 13, 2015

070: Beginnings were too much work and endings were too far away. Here she was, going stale in the middle. #140chars pic.twitter.com/U9gEl9vnkD

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) October 4, 2015

066: It had been a war down below, and it'd sure cost him, but retirement was a deadly peace. #140chars pic.twitter.com/gldBuiRKuv

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 27, 2015

062: Blame it on the rain or GI Joe. Nature nurtured the unnatural and he's holding on with cold dead hands.#140chars pic.twitter.com/UYMQhiuYg2

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 20, 2015

058: He called himself a gearhead, but the only car he'd ever owned was a Micro Machine. #140chars pic.twitter.com/gIOieePLuZ

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 15, 2015

054: He stuck to capitals and tourist traps. Travelling, for him, was a parade of backdrops for photos. #140chars pic.twitter.com/e6TOTTvoU3

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 9, 2015

050: Drinking was a form of advertising for him, like a billboard that said Love Me. He didn't love back. #140chars pic.twitter.com/LGAJ5nWHJx

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 2, 2015

046: She was unlikable but severely capable. She was someone who would do well when the world ended. #140chars pic.twitter.com/DbVE6QTz4f

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 27, 2015

042: He was the son of thousand fathers. All of them bastards, just like him. #tuco #140chars pic.twitter.com/aCz3dLqCTR

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 18, 2015

038: He still smelled like forest floor and ocean salt. He was housebroken but he refused to be tame. #140chars pic.twitter.com/SDuvbo5Q7Z

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 11, 2015

034: He was an uncommonly gentle man. He was like King Midas, only everything he touched turned to shit. #140chars pic.twitter.com/LCSPorZO4O

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 5, 2015

030: He'd been around the world and didn't like it anywhere. There was that day in Paris, but it rained. #140chars pic.twitter.com/E3IH1SOg9M

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 31, 2015

026: He was the kind of guy who believed a shirt was something you wore in your back pocket. #140chars pic.twitter.com/vf2sBYppNY

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 24, 2015

022: He said all the right things and his smile lit up a room, but animals avoided him. They knew better. #140chars pic.twitter.com/ypvnYTo0dZ

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 18, 2015

018: He went to the beach to watch. He indulged in one of those tans that made him look like a burn victim. #140chars pic.twitter.com/DaNddOqVim

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 11, 2015

014: He kept the lights low. There were no photographs or mirrors on the wall. The circus never returned. #140chars pic.twitter.com/lzgDF34z4l

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 3, 2015

010: Together, they only felt half real. Then one day they didn't need to change, the world did. #pride #140chars pic.twitter.com/sKZm0E2Qqf

— harkback (@hark_back) June 28, 2015

006: He was unrecognizable. He'd been a vegetarian. He took free yoga classes. But everyone grows up. #140chars pic.twitter.com/QfCPkZd58b

— harkback (@hark_back) June 24, 2015

002: He bragged about life on the trail, but he bought the shirt at a duty free. So much he left undone. #140chars pic.twitter.com/wuYjee8HKD

— harkback (@hark_back) June 17, 2015

137: Blood sure was thicker than water. She could tell you that. Her family couldn't. Anymore. #140chars pic.twitter.com/LhAWXJeBx5

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) June 19, 2016

133: He was the kind of guy who brought a knife to a pillowfight. #140chars pic.twitter.com/vSLZ5TaHM5

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) May 26, 2016

129: He was saving for a rainy day. In the meantime he lay about in the sun, rich and wretched. #140chars pic.twitter.com/d9CmR988nt

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) May 6, 2016

125: Silence was a nemesis she attacked unrelentingly. All her conversations were monologues. #140chars pic.twitter.com/FOnXOqYFyn

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) April 13, 2016

121: He was the kind of sage who didn't know he knew nothing, but he could sure bleat namaste like a pro. #140chars pic.twitter.com/yB61neZANc

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) March 24, 2016

117: She had answers for everything. It didn't bother her that they had little to do with the questions. #140chars pic.twitter.com/AuimJNfIBC

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) February 26, 2016

113: The world was a giant arcade, and here he was: down to one miserable life and fresh out of quarters. #140chars pic.twitter.com/bmOwmsBHkw

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) February 4, 2016

109: He memorized facts and figures, dates and details. He was fairly useless in almost every situation. #140chars pic.twitter.com/nm9ehp6BV0

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) January 21, 2016

105: Even her most heartfelt words flopped out petty and diminished, but she was bigger on the inside. #140chars pic.twitter.com/NAkQlsafzc

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) January 10, 2016

101: Peace and joy and all of that, too. But mostly he was in it for the pretty paper and ribbons. #140chars pic.twitter.com/BWoNoV89vP

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) December 25, 2015

097: He lived under the pressure of his expiration. But he was like buttermilk: he'd been sour all along. #140chars pic.twitter.com/0wQmHXxju0

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) December 10, 2015

093: He smelled of patchouli and smiled beatifically. When he meditated, he thought about killing someone. #140chars pic.twitter.com/TRz2pnnbP9

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) November 28, 2015

089: He ordered drinks flavoured with exotic fruit he's never bruised, from countries he'll never visit. #140chars pic.twitter.com/961qYiwZv9

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) November 19, 2015

085: He used chopsticks to eat pasta and watched subtitled films. He was the most cultured person he knew. #140chars pic.twitter.com/RTv7tG1Kr7

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) November 8, 2015

081: He hemorrhaged cash in public. He liked people to think he was generous, but he wasn't. #140chars pic.twitter.com/JYlN1SRZ26

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) November 1, 2015

077: He had an easier time relating to rocks and dirt than other people. His hygiene was questionable. #140chars pic.twitter.com/I7ixN2Pdx8

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) October 24, 2015

073: For years, he railed that the beasts were at the door. Turned out they were inside the whole time. #140chars pic.twitter.com/4DboACCZQp

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) October 11, 2015

069: His number would come up some day. He was sure of it. In the meantime, he kept losing. #140chars pic.twitter.com/CvAPuWh0US

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) October 3, 2015

065: Organic or local. Fair trade or free. Farmers' market or co-op. She was ethically sated, but starving. #140chars pic.twitter.com/PbRjOXxsjl

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 26, 2015

061: She treated every sniffle as the bubonic plague. Flu season was her opus. #140chars @PaulVermeersch pic.twitter.com/eeaMpRbaxm

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 19, 2015

057: He had been a juggernaut until the allergies hit. Then he saw fear in a handful of dust. #TSEliot #140chars pic.twitter.com/hinN5FuBI0

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 13, 2015

053: She liked rituals. Sunset walks, after dinner cigarettes, canasta Tuesdays. It made death measurable. #140chars pic.twitter.com/tTShcp5YQ8

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 6, 2015

049: He'd show up for dinner and stay for months instead. He was like a never ending story, only longer. #140chars pic.twitter.com/qX4PCddemT

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) September 1, 2015

045: He was the kind of guy you'd vote for, only because he was just slightly less awful than the rest. #140chars pic.twitter.com/CoyX7tFhdP

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 23, 2015

041: He was the life of a party. He could fit in anywhere. But at home, he never belonged. #140chars pic.twitter.com/TEvkOWEgrl

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 15, 2015

037: He loved the sound of a fire engine. Lawnmowers, screaming children. Silence knew too much about him. #140chars pic.twitter.com/7kuBqD2Shd

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 9, 2015

033: He quit things he never even started. He always said die. It wasn't his time anywhere. #goonies #140chars pic.twitter.com/kCtOQXNlBI

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) August 4, 2015

029: He'd master an instrument in an hour and then abandon it for years. He had a knack, but no love. #140chars pic.twitter.com/Kj4xyhU13F

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 29, 2015

025: He was always right. About everything. And he had a way of smiling that let you know it. #140chars pic.twitter.com/v3Fst5Zaf5

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 23, 2015

021: He dressed like a car accident. He carried books of poetry around, spines out, but he never read them. #140chars pic.twitter.com/4dqGWTVcXy

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 16, 2015

017: He liked the gym and passing by tinted windows on the street. He rarely paid attention to anyone else. #114chars pic.twitter.com/dFb1jm27dK

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 9, 2015

013: Women were lured in by his baby face, but he was terrible at parties. He was lonely but not lovable. #140chars pic.twitter.com/ru1EUtT4Gg

— Matthew Heiti (@hark_back) July 2, 2015

009: It started as a summer job. Jousting for tourists. He was 50 and still living in someone else's past. #140chars pic.twitter.com/MT1k5Rp80n

— harkback (@hark_back) June 27, 2015

005: The small wings beat against his palms. He was too weak to hold on, too afraid to just let go. #140chars pic.twitter.com/qIyhEmeom9

— harkback (@hark_back) June 21, 2015

001: Years after, he still wore it. When she said you look nice, he had felt like someone. Not anymore. #140chars pic.twitter.com/kwivzNCPke

— harkback (@hark_back) June 16, 2015