the line of sight

The chef’s refusal to crisp the fat on a grilled pork chop — which arrived slumped on a lakelet of gravy which had been allowed to form a skin sturdy enough to see an Eskimo through the bitterest Alaskan winter — was the least of it.

Corpse Switches controlled the zombie miners […] The zombie workers had been paupers, criminals, and other dangerous and unsavory types. Certainly not the sorts one wanted roaming the mountains without the control of a properly sorcelled Corpse Switch.

The value of a crotchet is twice that of a quaver.