I wonder what it would be like, if their species had evolved in tandem with our own. Even now I admire the way they are. It seems strange, I know, to admire a species for being only what the world brought them to be, but consider how proud we are of our achievements, as if we had planned them.

I like to imagine their underwater cities, built amongst the coral; the silent bustle of unfolding patterns and swarming hues. Two alien species discover each other living on the same planet. At first, communication is crude, some system of noisy lights and bright tones. But after a time fluency emerges and thoughts mingle. What subtlety of expression they could show us in the colour of their poetry.

In sixty million years, a cuttlefish architect digs up a sepia photograph of the Titanic and wonders: If only they could talk to us, these ink pillaging monsters, maybe our species wouldn’t feel so lonely.