From Below

by Darcy Coates

She’d almost laughed. Nine years of studying and thesis writing and she still couldn’t get a job

The knowledge that water enveloped every inch of her, that the only way she could get oxygen was through a narrow tube and a small metal container strapped to her back made her abruptly nauseated.

But the Titanic rests at twelve thousand feet, not three hundred. The water’s pressure quite literally dissolved even the bones a long time ago.”

Isn’t that the truth for all of us though? Isn’t it, in some ways, a blessing that we don’t know when our time will end? Think, Cove—how much attention did you pay to your sunrise this morning? Did you make the most of it, as though it could be your last?

But like with many parts of the Arcadia, safety was often compromised for aesthetics.