And it sounded something like this

Endless numbered days

Gustav ushered in some relief. She found herself sitting on the roof overlooking a verdant backyard in the morning light. The house was a giant centennial thing sectioned charismatically into apartments where the rising sun made the eggshell blue walls seem crisp and playfully painted sheets of paper inviting. They talked about the things that they were wont to talk about once more before parting for a season. Having trimmed one another's hair and shared clove cigarettes and a great deal of simple human affection. Lying on the rug next to the record player the night before, she observed a true difference in the sound of a vinyl. It filled the room, as though it had a presence. She wanted to string these tranquil moments together like beads, to wear them around her neck wherever she went as a rosary of small moments of bliss. With great reluctance, she tread down the fire escape.

All alone in the branches

Some of the trees were giving up and dropping out without any roman candle flares. Yet summer held fast her reign. Voices the only thing lifting the veil, sitting wearily in the shade of a thinning oak tree.

Days too long, nights too short.

The unsophisticated determination of the red blooded redneck was not to be underestimated in its power to exhaust all verbal wit and fuel the blackest of moods. She didn't like heat, didn't like slapping at mosquitoes, or unimaginative, cock-driven boys.
Sweltering heat brought to bear again the piercing droning grind of the meat saw in the cutting room. It brought to bear the crude wants of late middle-aged men which were only vocalized under cover of the prevalent whining sound. Also goaded, a young, outstanding specimen of white trash shifted into a frolicking sort of desperation. Lest she should escape un-fianced, and far more pointedly, un-boned. She sidestepped, blocked, belittled, and undermined tiredly. Caught in the flow, she was as ready to spit on any knights errant as be rescued by them. The weather report was unpromising.