Pictures we draw in our memories are like images on the shore emerging and dying with the tide. We wonder about their liberty, ideality and are surprised at their mutability. This fragment is about these pictures we cherish in our heart, because we have only these floating images as distant echoes of our beloved deceased. The mourners are in the end the oldest painters and conjurers on the shore of our heart. We wish this small piece could give you some consolation in your never-ending tide of sorrows.