„There are INKlings about. Listen,“ she said. „Those sounds.“

„Sounds?“

„Fins flapping. Listen carefully. You can feel them.“

I strained, but didn’t detect anything of the kind.

„Once you know what to listen for, you can even detect their voices. It’s not really speech; it’s closer to sound waves. They’re like bats...


(Haruki Murakami: „hard-boiled wonderland and the end of the world“)