Sleep story · travel, cozy
The night train, when you are short on time — for a racing mind
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. 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 heating is on low, and the air smells faintly of clean metal and old upholstery. The window is cool against the side of your face. The rhythm underneath you is steady enough to lean on.
Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away. Let your forearms get heavy and warm.
Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine. Feel your cheeks let go.
The lights along the aisle are dimmed to the colour of weak tea. Every so often the wheels change their note as they cross a join in the rail.
Feel the weight of your head on the pillow. Let your palms open if they were closed.
Your mind will leave about a hundred times. Come back about a hundred times. If you're bored, stay with the boredom for a moment. It's usually thinner than it looks.
Let the back of your neck lengthen out. Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed.
Almost nothing to do now. Softer.
Let each breath be a little smaller than the last. Sleep. Let the breath be the only thing you are doing.
Pick this one when you are short on time.
The end. Sleep well.