she thanked saul in advance in a letter to him.

she knew that bellow would write that years later.

the flesh would shrink and go, the blood would dry, but no one believes in his mind or heart or hearts that the pictures do stop.  

but she liked him immensely.  and she agreed with him.  the pictures could never stop.

to a man spewing histrionic diatribes.  this was when he was lost.

he would go from a quiet man alone with his thoughts,

also the fact that he was completely confident in himself.  other times he seemed lost.

except for a few things.  he preferred to be in silhouette most of the days and nights.

first of all he was a very intelligent man.  more intelligent than interesting.

then they would head over to harry's wagon for breakfast.  that is his shadow on the wall.

she first came across this man in the blue neon bar.  he is the one on the left. 

he said that the pictures were the only things that remained.

a man once told her that the pictures never stop.

when you die, do the pictures stop?

then they would disappear, twirling away softly like smoke leaving the back of her head.

she looked at them.  she gave them respect.

she would notice the images later, recognize that they were foreign to her, and discard them.

into her head, horizontally, right above her eyebrows.  like cards.  she never felt a thing.

they would hover around her head and then only a few would skate

she said that the images looked like this when they were ready to enter.

the images entered her brain right between her eyes.  she could see them coming.

she traveled.  but not here.  this is an image in her head.

she will just go on.  she will accept his visions, study them for a moment and quickly cast them out.

she will keep her distance.  she will be seen and not seen at the same time.

she felt his presence, but less and less each day.

his pride was hurt.  he finished his little confession with that.

serios began to think that he had lost his edge.  his images were not as horrific as he thought.

he wasn't sure about time heals all.  he wasn't sure about anything.

even the unpleasant ones they would forget over time.  time heals all.  serios wasn't sure.

these women instinctively knew that all kinds of images enter their minds at all times.

they ignored groundless thoughts until they were forgotten.

nothing seemed to bother them.  they treated these recurring images as if they were groundless thoughts.

they were younger and smarter than serios and seemed to have eccentric talents of their own.

these were the kind of women that serios thought he loved.  

one may have just exhaled the image and decided to become invisible.

in their cleverness, he thought that the women might find a way to deal with them.

he sent these feverish visions to women he thought he loved.

they would catch them, and hold them, and struggle to forget them.

he could cast them out of his mind only by passing them to another.  and hopefully 

they were building.  he had to get rid of the ones which he despised.

he treated his images like a game, shuffling them around in his head.

he soon realized that his particular ability could create enormous tension.

but even as a boy he was able to transfer his images to other's minds.

the act was the quickest way to make a buck.  he knew a few tricks.

serios said that he only knew the worlds of photographs and images.

it was deception.  he said that he started drinking hard during that time.

he said that he could never successfully record an image from his mind on film.

she told him once that she thought his act was phony.  she never saw anything in those pictures.

as if they were apologies.

the images themselves were becoming almost polite.