I fell asleep soon after lying down and pulling the blanket over me. But it was not too long, perhaps an hour or so later, before I woke up and had trouble sleeping.
The romantic feeling of being on a night train somehow had motives into fear, as I would be waken by sudden jolts and vibrations and loud squeaking and clanking of the metallic carriage. I remember lying in my cabin, a little frightened, and also worried about whether mum was getting any sleep at all from all that motion and noise. I remember lying there a while and thinking i should knock on her door and give her earplugs. Bug I never did that, for I was afraid I would wake up her.
By four or five I was awake, and the sky was already brightening. Unable to sleep, I went up to the dome and watched as the day slowly broke.
So tranquil, so mesmerisingly beautiful with that thin, thin veil of morning mist over woods and patches of water. It reminded me of the scenery of morning break at the monastery I stayed at for a ten day retreat last year.
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