Sleep story · travel, cozy
The night train 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
Every so often the wheels change their note as they cross a join in the rail. The rhythm underneath you is steady enough to lean on. The lights along the aisle are dimmed to the colour of weak tea.
Your bag is wedged under the seat in front, out of the way of your feet. There is one other person in this carriage, four rows up, asleep with a coat over their knees. Outside, the fields go past without anything in them you need to see.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Notice how much of you has already stopped moving.
Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you. Let your toes stop holding on to anything.
A station passes without stopping — a platform, a lamp, three empty benches, then dark again. The train left a quarter of an hour ago, and the carriage has already settled into its own quiet.
Let your forearms get heavy and warm. Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be.
If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background. If you're replaying a conversation, let it play. It'll finish on its own.
Feel your cheeks let go. Let your ribs stop working so hard.
Let the breath be the only thing you are doing. Just the dark.
Nothing here needs following closely. Let them. Let each breath be a little smaller than the last.
This assumes you have already tried the obvious things.
There is nothing more to follow. Let the rest happen on its own.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, cozy.
If this story does not settle you, try Sleep story: a field under snow, if you are new to this — for an overtired night, A field under snow for jet lag or Sleep story: a lake before dawn.