Night Train No.1

Trip Start Sep 08, 2010
1
6
228
Trip End Ongoing


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Flag of Belarus  ,
Saturday, September 11, 2010

Thirteen hours from Berlin, in the depths of the darkness, the brakes jolt on, snatching at the wheels and the beast is stilled by the night.
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.
"Passports!"

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.

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