'Twas a dark, stormy night. Delete. Setting the mood for a story was harder than he remembered. It was as though he didn't have it in him anymore. Maybe he should give up horror stories entirely and write romance?
With the cessation of the typewriter's steady clicks, the door creaked open. A girl entered.
"Daddy?" A pair of puppy eyes stared at him.
"Read me a bedtime ftory?"
There was no resisting those puppy eyes she was squeezing in her hand.
"Of course," he said, reattaching his head.
"I promise it'll be a scary one."
She smiled happily.