Her name is Banjo Girl. My ears aren’t getting anything but my imagination is. She is playing a love song to a man not in the picture.
She’s playing the guitar in the backyard. It’s Fall. All the leaves are on the ground.
You can’t tell from the photo if she does it often. She looks very happy doing it.
She’s hoping to get married.
I can’t tell if she has family. How can you tell? She’s happy because they decided to get married. Her fiancé’s name is Roberto Barack. He’s listening. Is Roberto Barack a man?
It must be warm because she isn’t dressed for winter. Smells? Odors you mean? Dead leaves don’t have any smell.
She plays the guitar for a living. She plays in an orchestra.
It looks like she’s grieving. It doesn’t look like she’s happy from her facial expression. The relationship has gone away, disappeared. It looks like she’s lonely, wishing and hoping for something. She’ll probably get a surprise.
She’s grieving. She’s distraught.
He’s going to make up with her.
I don’t know if the family knows about the relationship.
Where are they going to make up? In the psychiatrist’s office. What is the psychiatrist going to ask them? Why do you want to get married? They will answer that they have a physical relationship, that they’re in love.
She’s playing the guitar and singing with it. She didn’t take the guitar with her to the psychiatrist’s office. She just told him that she does it.
I don’t know why she plays the guitar. It’s recreation and commendable. It makes her happy.
The guitar doesn’t have a name – it’s name is guitar. Big Bertha is the guitar’s name.
She bought the guitar. Yes, she bought it. It could have been handed down from a member of the family.
She likes playing it.
Storytellers: Jesse, Kitty, Susan, Gladys, Bill, Robert, and Frank.