Night Train No.1
Trip Start Sep 08, 2010
228Trip End Ongoing
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Silence on the Polish-Belarussian border. Confusion slumber sending tendrils into the darkness trying to latch onto anything familiar, any identifiable sound.
In the corridor outside our compartment, instead of footsteps, the slow advance of documents being stamped on thin carpet.
Further into the timeless darkness the cabin earthquakes - a series of massive impacts punctuating the stillness. In the belly of the sparring beast, taking blows. Hit from half slumber to uncomprehending wakefulness and then slipping back before the next convulsion. Outside the equine nasal breathing of steam? Shunting? What manner of thing separates the Moscow from the St. Petersburg wagons?
And later still we are moving once again and the womb rocks us lullabied into deep, grateful sleep. Forgetful motion, amniotic & distant. Carrying us away from the trauma. And when I wake it is to the red curtain, capillary film, blood lattice of an unfocussed eyeball.