Sleep story · travel, cozy
The night train (a sleep story), when you need to stop thinking about work — for waking too early
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.
Screen on or off — we suggest dimming it, or simply closing your eyes after the first paragraph.
The story, in full
Outside, the fields go past without anything in them you need to see. The seat reclines one notch further than you expected it to. The window is cool against the side of your face.
The lights along the aisle are dimmed to the colour of weak tea. The rhythm underneath you is steady enough to lean on. The heating is on low, and the air smells faintly of clean metal and old upholstery.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.
Let your hands be completely still. Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part.
Your bag is wedged under the seat in front, out of the way of your feet. The train left a quarter of an hour ago, and the carriage has already settled into its own quiet.
Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.
Let your forehead go cool and smooth. Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other.
A station passes without stopping — a platform, a lamp, three empty benches, then dark again. There is one other person in this carriage, four rows up, asleep with a coat over their knees.
Notice whether you're breathing or holding. Start breathing again. If you're judging your performance, that's the same habit as judging everything else.
Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine.
Just the breath. Let each breath be a little smaller than the last.
You can stop listening properly. Let them. Let the room get slightly further away.
Work thoughts are allowed to be there. They just do not get to drive.
There is nothing more to follow. Let the rest happen on its own.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, cozy.
If this story does not settle you, try A field under snow (a sleep story), if you have done this a hundred times — for an overtired night, A library at closing time, when you have already had a long week — for a restless night or Sleep story: a hotel room somewhere, when you want something simple — for a racing mind.