Worst Mystery opening ever

So, I tried my hand at writing fiction.  I tried starting a mystery.  I think I better stick to non-fiction...

 

Chapter 1

It was a dark and stormy night. No, seriously, it was. But that is the thing about nights: they are dark, especially if clouds are blocking the moonlight and starlight, which is usually the case when it is stormy. So I guess I just need to say “it was a stormy night” because I don’t think it was any darker than a regular night with cloud cover.

OK, so it was a stormy night but that’s still not technically true. The night wasn’t stormy; the weather was, or rather a storm was passing through, and it was nighttime. Not that the storm lasted the entire night either mind you, just around the time this story starts, and maybe for at least an hour afterwards. It would seem kind of silly if the storm just let up right after the story starts. And it would be weird to start the story just as the rain started falling, too contrived. No, let’s say that it had been raining for 47 minutes when the story begins.

It wasn’t stormy everywhere at that time, just as it wasn’t night everywhere. In some places it was daytime and clear. But no good stories begin in the daytime with good weather. Well, maybe some do but not this one. Inside the old Melton mansion the inspector made a grim discovery….

The inspector’s name was Bob Melton and on this stormy night, he discovered that someone had mutilated the leftover meatloaf that he was planning to heat up for a midnight snack. Well. It wasn’t exactly midnight but it was late. He didn’t know the exact time but it was dark out (and stormy) and he had gotten a hankering. Bob was a home inspector and usually he didn’t snack late at night, but this night was different. He had eaten dinner earlier than usual because he’d come home from work a little early. (He heard there was a storm coming.)