Sleep story · travel, cozy
The night train (a sleep story), when you want to finish something — 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
The rhythm underneath you is steady enough to lean on. The lights along the aisle are dimmed to the colour of weak tea. The heating is on low, and the air smells faintly of clean metal and old upholstery.
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. The train left a quarter of an hour ago, and the carriage has already settled into its own quiet.
Your elbows can stop being hinges for now. Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress.
Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Let your forehead go cool and smooth.
Somewhere ahead of you, a door opens and closes with a soft, deliberate sound. Outside, the fields go past without anything in them you need to see.
Let your ribs stop working so hard. Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow.
Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed. Let your calves spread out and flatten.
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.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.
The window is cool against the side of your face. There is one other person in this carriage, four rows up, asleep with a coat over their knees.
Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.
If your body wants to move, let it move, then come back. If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background.
Let your hands be completely still. Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out.
Just the breath. Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself.
Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet. Softer. Let the quiet be boring.
Stay with the weight of your body. They will find their own way out. Let the dark be ordinary.
Wanting to finish something is a better motivation than wanting to relax.
No more sentences. Just the weight of you in the bed.
18 paragraphs, roughly 3 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, cozy.
If this story does not settle you, try A hotel room somewhere (a sleep story), when you have tried everything else — for an overtired night, A lake before dawn, when you only have a few minutes — for a racing mind or A fire dying down (a sleep story), when you are somewhere noisy — for a racing mind.