“He was born at night, in the deepest and darkest hour. The carmine moon had already disappeared behind the horizon, and the emerald moon was hiding in dense clouds. Therefore, even if he had eyes, he would still not be able to see either the sharp rocks surrounding the depression, or the oily puddle of the pool, or the heavy carcass of the accomplishment that gave birth to a new brood. He could have distinguished the distant sound of the sea and the voices of the born, the imperfect and the accomplished, but he had no ears. The only gift that he inherited from his dead ancestor was the sense of smell. He took it completely, without a trace, and now his tiny brain grew, absorbing more and more new information...”