Thief of Time - Sense

'It's that rancid yak butter they put in the tea, I've always said so,' said Lu-Tze. 'Mrs Cosmopilite never- Now that is unusual,' he said, looking up.

'What? What?' said Lobsang, looking blankly at his wet fingertips and then up at the cloudless sky.

'A Procrastinator going overspeed.' He shifted position. 'Can't you feel it?’

'I can't hear anything!' said Lobsang.

'Not hear, feel. Coming up through your sandals? Oops, there goes another one... and another. You can't feel it? That one's... that's old Sixty-Six, they've never got it properly balanced. We'll hear them in a minute... Oh dear. Look at the flowers. Do look at the flowers!' Lobsang turned. The ice plants were opening. The field sowthistle was closing. 'Time-leak,' said Lu-Tze. 'Hark at that! You can hear them now, eh? They're dumping time randomly! Come on!’

***

The Thief of Time - p117