in the evening....

After the fiasco at the bar, Charlie stumbles to the train.  On the subway, she finds herself staring out the window blankly, the interaction of  james, looping in her head over and over again.  her high has faded, the anger she is feeling is  precedent over any type of potion.  she does not feel the cold air, her skin is hot,  and the scream in her chest, is constantly coming closer and closer to bursting out of her mouth.  she breathes deeply, shutting her eyes tightly every time she pictures him sitting there, with the young girl in the funeral dress. * another breathe*  she did not acknowledge Charlie's  presence, only fanning the smoke away that Charlie blew over her like a dragon.  She never turned around, Charlie wanted to stare into her eyes, and if she could set her on fire with her own blaze , she would have .  arriving home, her movements  are violent, snatching the flowers pinned to the side of her head off, she lays in  bed, not wanting to take off her clothes.   She cries in her pillow,  her sobs are loud, and wild.  she rolls over on her stomach, and stares at the telephone. peeling herself off the bed, she dials his number slowly, wiping tears between every couple of numbers.  her heart racing, after eight rings, she slams the phone down.   her hands are shaking as she puts the needle on the record, Bessie Smith voice comes out as a purr,  she lights a cigarette......."give it to me paaapaaaa".....