Sleep story · travel, cozy
The night train, when you are short on time — for a restless night
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
Outside, the fields go past without anything in them you need to see. 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.
Somewhere ahead of you, a door opens and closes with a soft, deliberate sound. The rhythm underneath you is steady enough to lean on. Your bag is wedged under the seat in front, out of the way of your feet.
Notice how much of you has already stopped moving. Feel your wrists loosen.
Let your palms open if they were closed. Let your forearms get heavy and warm.
There is one other person in this carriage, four rows up, asleep with a coat over their knees. The window is cool against the side of your face.
Your chest can be still now. Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be.
Notice how you're sitting. Adjust if you need to. Then settle again. Notice the difference between a thought and the space around it.
Let your shoulder blades spread out and drop. Let your forehead go cool and smooth.
Let your breathing do the rest. Just the breath.
Let the sound of this go soft at the edges. Let them. Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself.
Pick this one when you are short on time.
That is the end of the story. Sleep is the next part, and it does not need instructions.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, cozy.
If this story does not settle you, try A boat at anchor, if you are doing this in the middle of the day — for the hours after a late shift, Sleep story: the house after everyone is asleep, when you want to be left alone — for a racing mind or A boat at anchor, when you need something unremarkable — for jet lag.