Bathysphere

So begins a cheerful little expedition. Spirits are high. Gently sinking into clear, sunlit water. Questionable confidence is at its peak. Deeper, the light starts to fade. The water turns cooler, darker. The surface already feels a bit theoretical. Further down, things get uncomfortable. The bathysphere creaks just enough to be noticed. There’s less to see, and what is there appears briefly and then vanishes, as if it regrets being observed. You begin to suspect you are no longer in charge of this outing. Then comes the proper deep. No light, no sense of up or down. Just endless dark water pressing in from all sides. Something large may or may not pass nearby. You decide, very bravely, not to check. Suspended in the abyss - quiet, tiny, insignificant and reconsidering every decision that led you here. “Well, this seemed like a fun idea at the surface.”