Sleep story · travel, cozy

The night train (a sleep story), on a low-energy afternoon — for the hours after a late shift

Somewhere between two cities, in the dark, where nobody needs anything from you.

Lights off. Press begin and let the story read itself to you, at the pace of sleep.

Read it myself

Screen on or off — we suggest dimming it, or simply closing your eyes after the first paragraph.

The story, in full

Somewhere ahead of you, a door opens and closes with a soft, deliberate sound. Your bag is wedged under the seat in front, out of the way of your feet. Every so often the wheels change their note as they cross a join in the rail.

The seat reclines one notch further than you expected it to. The heating is on low, and the air smells faintly of clean metal and old upholstery. The lights along the aisle are dimmed to the colour of weak tea.

Let your toes stop holding on to anything. Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head.

Let your palms open if they were closed. Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy.

There is one other person in this carriage, four rows up, asleep with a coat over their knees. The train left a quarter of an hour ago, and the carriage has already settled into its own quiet.

Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you. Let your calves spread out and flatten.

If you feel restless, that's a feeling, not a failure. If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background.

Your ankles can go loose now. Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be.

Stay with the weight of your body. Let the dark be ordinary.

Just the dark. Let the next part go past without you. Slower.

Low-energy afternoons are what this was written for.

The room is dark, the day is finished, and nothing is required of you.

12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, cozy.