“Jenkies!”
Someone cackled from the other end of the seedy bar.
She huffed, ran her fingers through her thick auburn hair,
Not moving her eyes from the man two seats down.
His face pale and eyes shifty
As he sipped on water with a lemon perched on the rim.
An odd thing to drink at a bar, she couldn’t help but
notice-
Her days of solving mysteries had at least left her with a sharp
intuition
And a burning desire for chaos
She only found at the tip of a cigarette these days.
He stood up and she slammed back her Crown,
Followed him with practiced ease,
Her eyes trained on his glowing skin sliding through the
front door.
Through thick, wired rims she watched him
As he pulled out a strange device-
Probably calling his home planet-
He spoke with someone briefly, in a tongue she couldn’t
place,
Then stepped into a cab.
She sighed with her whole body
And trudged home to feed the big, brown dog.
No one would believe her neighbor was a Martian,
They never believed her in the day,
And really, what had changed?
And really, what had changed?
Velma with her auburn hair and brown eyes covered by glasses too big for her face she misses the days of solving mysteries and having friends an old main living with scooby and spending her nights at dive bars smoking cigarettes and drinking whiskey hating everyone that asks her to say jenkies and keeping a careful eye on her neighbor, her paranoia from the old days driving her to find mysteries where they don't exist living in a small apartment and doing odd jobs to pay the rent she can't sleep at night, haunted by memories of monsters creeping in the dark and driving her to try and relive the days where her friends were together and helping people
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