only the lonely [Jim Morrison]

four

Your hands were on my hips, your name was on my lips.

It felt as if the whiskey was taking me with it, opening doors of chaos. Reaching for another glass, my knees became weak as I notice the fascinating man who bewitched me walking towards the booth while Ray and the others followed. "Charolette, this is Jim." Dorothy explained. I felt as if my lace top was getting tighter around my waist, while my velvet skirt was riding up my thighs under the table. His eyes never leaving mine. "My pleasure." I placed the cigarette  between my lips, the smoke filling the booth.

"Charolette, this is Robby Krieger, the guitarist," Ray stated proudly. Robby had a curly mess for hair but his aura was nothing but a man experiencing a spiritual awakening. I smiled and greeted him as if we had been childhood friends. "This is John Densmore, the drummer." I smiled and complimented his side burns, as they were in fact groovy.

We all sat in the booth, drinking, and talking much about politics with our adolescent intellect. As the London Fog ended its night, we all made our way back to Ray and Dorothy's apartment while Robby and John went their separate ways. "I found Jim squatting on top of a roof top with some classmate of ours. Jim nearly lost thirty pounds, so Dorothy and I made some room for him at the apartment." Ray explained as he opened the door. I turned my head to spot Jim walking in a god-like fashion, arm placed around Dorothy shoulders.

I closed the door to the spare room and placed on my silk gown. As I closed my eyes, a slight knock on my door awoke me. Assuming it was Dorothy, I opened the door without hesitation.  Noticing that it was Jim I quickly found myself not being able to speak. He stood in front of me like a god with his tight leather pants and Roman belt, nothing more. "Charolette, would you come with me?" He softly said, again his eyes never leaving mine. I nodded and let him lead the way.