He's in the garden hanging his smalls on the washing line.

The appeal of the spectrally macabre is generally narrow because it demands from the reader a certain degree of imagination and a capacity for detachment from every-day life.

Sod him!, Sod it!, Sod that bastard!

[…] with a squadrilla to meet the aviators, and as soon as the plane was visible from the shore, ship sirens and whistles blew and flags flew from every mast.