In the depths of a dark lake lived a blind fish named Hinterland. She had never seen sunlight, did not know what algae looked like, what colors the water played with. Her world was a world of sounds: the sound of waves, the splashing of other fish, the whisper of algae on the bottom. The hinterland was guided by these sounds, deftly avoiding rocks and predators.

One day, during a severe storm, the Hinterland felt an unusual fluctuation of water – sharp, strong, like a thunderclap. She got tangled in the currents, and her little body hit something hard.

When the storm subsided, the Hinterland felt different. She heard a new sound, a low but distinct vibrating hum. It sounded like a deep, soothing chant. Following him, the Hinterland floated until it reached a large, smooth surface.

She felt the slight vibrations of this gigantic object penetrate into the very essence of her being. And then she understood. It was a huge bell submerged at the bottom of the lake, and its singing replaced the light for her. The hinterland found its own path in the dark depths, a path that it felt not with its eyes, but with its soul.