[…] Put the billy on the fire, Jimmy, and we’ll drink him a good voyage in half a pannikin of tea before we turn in.

Outside, the familiar darkness disturbed by smog and the distant grumble of dysfunctional Trabants, an empty dirtyard facing the rump of a low, gray municipal building, the only illumination provided by the light trailing from the bar’s open door.

The results show a fairly gracilized body build both in males and females, and a morphological convergence of the proportions of the two sexes.

Houses are not mirrors for Narcissuses, and even the most houseproud people don't eat off the kitchen floor, whatever they say.