Sleep story · travel, cozy
The night train, after a difficult conversation — for winding down
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
Somewhere ahead of you, a door opens and closes with a soft, deliberate sound. 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.
Your bag is wedged under the seat in front, out of the way of your feet. The heating is on low, and the air smells faintly of clean metal and old upholstery. The rhythm underneath you is steady enough to lean on.
Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Let your calves spread out and flatten.
Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine. Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part.
A station passes without stopping — a platform, a lamp, three empty benches, then dark again. Every so often the wheels change their note as they cross a join in the rail.
Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs. Let your forearms get heavy and warm.
Notice any tension that arrived while you weren't looking. If you feel restless, that's a feeling, not a failure.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Feel your cheeks let go.
Just the weight. The words can start to blur now.
Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself. You can stop listening properly. They will find their own way out.
Difficult conversations leave a residue. This is for the residue.
I will stop here. The quiet will carry on without the words.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, cozy.