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Sinking ships fascinate me

It’s an incredible thought: a ship, once upright, now nose-down, propellers thrust into the sky. This massive world-unto-itself, suddenly violated, upended, and swallowed whole. Familiar environs—bedrooms, kitchens, TV lounges—plummeting towards the ocean floor. A sinking skyscraper, lights still shimmering, plunging down, down into the night.

There’s a more morbid fascination here, too. Panicked passengers, entombed in their staterooms. Trapped submariners, tapping out a hopeless SOS. Stalwart captains, chained to the wheel. It’s hard to imagine a more lonely, terrifying way to die—and that’s why it holds such mystique.