ginger beer

in the style of mulder and scully

### The Haunting Fizz In a dim-lit diner on the edge of town, the jukebox plays a tune lost to time. We crack open a bottle of ginger beer, its effervescence a promise, or a curse. "Something peculiar about this," Scully murmurs, her blue eyes sharp as ever, as whispers of ghosts froth and bubble, echoing through the clink of metal and glass. The taste is sweet, yet laced with dread, like the memory of a lover long gone. With every sip, shadows dance, as if the spirits of the forgotten are calling, inviting us deeper into their fizzing depths.