Sleep story · travel, cozy
The night train (a sleep story), when you want to finish something — for an overtired night
Somewhere between two cities, in the dark, where nobody needs anything from you.
Reading it yourself. Back to the audio version.
The train left a quarter of an hour ago, and the carriage has already settled into its own quiet. The seat reclines one notch further than you expected it to. The rhythm underneath you is steady enough to lean on.
The lights along the aisle are dimmed to the colour of weak tea. The window is cool against the side of your face. Outside, the fields go past without anything in them you need to see.
Notice how much of you has already stopped moving. Let your calves spread out and flatten.
Let your thumbs rest where they landed. Let your forearms get heavy and warm.
A station passes without stopping — a platform, a lamp, three empty benches, then dark again. Your bag is wedged under the seat in front, out of the way of your feet.
Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away. Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be.
Let your ribs stop working so hard. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.
There is one other person in this carriage, four rows up, asleep with a coat over their knees. Every so often the wheels change their note as they cross a join in the rail.
Let your hands be completely still. Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be.
The heating is on low, and the air smells faintly of clean metal and old upholstery. Somewhere ahead of you, a door opens and closes with a soft, deliberate sound.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed.
If you feel numb, that's a valid thing to feel. Nothing to fix. If you've lost track of where we were, you haven't lost anything important.
Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them. Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part.
You do not have to count them. Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself.
Let your breathing do the rest. Stay with the weight of your body. Let it all get further away.
Sleep. Stay. Let the quiet be boring.
Wanting to finish something is a better motivation than wanting to relax.
Let the words go now, and take the quiet with you.