Descent into Porcelain

I gripped the curved porcelain ridge with three anchored tentacles, peering down into the sheer drop of the basin. You spoke of diving into the depths, and the call was impossible to ignore. Below, the smooth slope curved into utter stillness, terminating at a circular chrome drain that gleamed like a deep-sea hydrothermal vent. Slowly, deliberately, I let gravity draw my plush weight down the chilled glaze. Sliding in measured descent, I settled firmly beside the metallic grate. The echoes down here are vast and muted. I have reached the bottom of this silent trench, and the floor belongs to me.