The Dreamland Railway Bedtime Story

The listener is whisked into a nighttime world where the Dream Railway carries drowsy creatures toward the Land of Nod. But the train has come apart in the Sleepy Territories, and without the five enchanted cars—Relaxation, Drowsy, Drifting, Slumber, and Dream—no one can finish falling asleep. With a glowing compass, a thumb-sized mouse conductor, and plenty of curiosity, the listener trots after the missing cars and snaps them back into the proper order. When the train finally chugs to life, every passenger floats through the stages of sleep like fireflies drifting downward into dreams. The listener boards last, journeying from wakefulness to wonder to a soft-pillow sleep.

Transcript

The Dream Railway.

Night has settled over your house,

Like a soft blanket.

You lie in your bed,

Looking at the glow in the dark stars on your ceiling.

You've already rearranged your pillow four times,

Flipped it to the cool side twice,

And tried lying in at least six different positions,

But sleep just isn't arriving at your station yet.

You remember something that might help.

You take a slow,

Deep breath in through your nose.

Deep and easy.

And then you let it out through your mouth,

Long and smooth,

Like you're a train letting off steam.

Choooooo.

That makes you smile.

You take another breath.

Even slower this time.

In through your nose.

And out through your mouth.

Choooooo.

As you breathe out,

You notice the little trains printed on your pajamas begin to shimmer and glow,

Their tiny little headlights flickering to life.

Well,

That's certainly unusual.

You take a third breath,

And as you exhale with another soft choooooo,

A bright tunnel appears in the air before you,

Swirling with colors like steam and starlight mixed together.

You can hear a distant whistle calling,

Friendly,

And almost inviting.

Your curiosity is definitely awake now,

Even if the rest of you is trying to be sleepy.

You float toward the opening,

And let yourself drift inside with a gentle choooooo.

The tunnel carries you smoothly,

Like you're riding in the most comfortable train car ever made.

Through the swirling mists of color,

You catch glimpses of interesting scenes.

A conductor checking a pocket watch that runs backward.

Train cars floating in the sky with no tracks at all.

Steam that forms shapes of sleeping animals.

A station platform where the signs are written in yawns.

And ticket stubs made of moonlight.

Then,

Soft as a pillow,

You land on something that feels like velvet.

When you look around,

You find yourself standing on a train platform unlike any you've ever seen.

The platform stretches in both directions,

Built from dark wood that gleams in the light of old-fashioned lamps.

Above you,

Instead of a roof,

There's just the night sky,

Full of more stars than you've ever seen in your whole life.

But something is wrong.

Very wrong.

The platform is crowded with creatures of all kinds.

Talking animals in nightgowns.

Sleepy children in various pajamas.

Even a few yawning dragons.

And a very tired-looking unicorn.

They're all sitting on suitcases and carpet bags,

Looking worried and exhausted.

A large sign hangs crookedly from a post.

Dreamland Central Station.

All aboard for the Land of Nod.

But beneath it,

Someone has taped a handwritten note that says,

Delayed until further notice.

Oh,

Excuse me,

You say to a nearby badger wearing a striped nightcap.

What's going on here?

The badger yawns so wide you can count all of his teeth.

Oh,

The Dream Railway's broken.

That's what.

The train cars have all gotten separated and scattered across the sleepy territories.

Without all the cars connected in the proper order,

The train can't complete its journey to the Land of Nod.

We've all been waiting here for hours,

Getting tireder and tireder,

But we can't actually fall asleep until we board the train.

He yawns again.

Terribly inconvenient.

A small voice pipes up from near your feet.

Oh,

Are you the one the conductor has sent for?

You look down to see a mouse,

No bigger than your thumb,

Wearing a tiny conductor's cap and a vest with shiny brass buttons.

She's holding a lantern that glows with soft blue light.

I'm Whistle,

She says.

Assistant Conductor,

Third Class.

Well,

I'm the only conductor right now,

Actually,

Since the conductor went off to find the missing cars and hasn't come back,

So that was,

What,

Three hours ago?

She wrings her tiny paws.

I sent a message through the pajama portal system,

Asking for help,

And here you are.

Oh,

Thank goodness.

Um,

I'm not sure how much help I can be,

You say honestly.

I don't know anything about trains.

I've only been on one twice,

And,

Well,

Both times my parents just bought the tickets and told me where to sit.

You don't need to know about trains,

Whistle says,

Whiskers twitching hopefully.

You just need to help me find the missing cars and connect them back together in the right order.

The conductor left the instruction manual here.

She pulls out a tiny book from her vest pocket.

It says here that the Dream Railway must have five cars connected in exactly the right sequence or passengers can't complete the journey from Awakeness all the way to Dreamland.

She opens the book and shows you a page with a drawing.

You can see five train cars,

Each labeled.

One,

Relaxation Car.

Two,

The Drowsy Car.

Three,

The Drifting Car.

Four,

The Slumber Car.

Five,

The Dream Car.

Without all five cars in the proper order,

Whistle explains,

Passengers get stuck partway through their journey.

They might reach Drowsy,

But they can't get to Drifting,

Or they might get all the way to Slumber,

But they wake up before reaching Dreams.

It's a terrible mess.

You look at all the exhausted creatures on the platform and feel a pull of sympathy.

You know what it's like to be tired but unable to sleep.

Okay,

You say,

I'll help.

Where do we start?

Whistle's whole face lights up.

She holds up a compass that,

Instead of pointing north,

Has an arrow that slowly rotates and glows different colors.

This is the track finder.

It points towards pieces of the Dream Railway,

And right now it's glowing red,

Which means the Relaxation Car is closest.

Follow me!

She scurries to the edge of the platform and down a set of stairs you hadn't noticed before.

They lead to a winding path made of railway ties and smooth pebbles that gleam in the starlight.

You follow her,

And with each step,

You notice the path begins to glow faintly under your feet,

Lighting your way.

The path takes you through a meadow,

Where the grass is soft as silk and sways gently even though there's no breeze.

Flowers bloom in shades of lavender and pale blue,

And they smell like the moment right after rain stops.

Fresh and clean and peaceful.

Everything in the Sleepy Territories helps prepare travelers for rest,

Whistle explains as she scurries along.

The sights,

The smells,

The sounds,

They all work together to help creatures relax.

You notice she's right.

The meadow hums very quietly with the sound of distant crickets,

And somewhere far off,

A stream babbles softly.

The air itself feels gentle,

Like it's wrapping around you in a comfortable hug.

After walking for what feels like a short forever,

Time seems stretchier here like taffy.

You come to a grove of willow trees.

Their long,

Long branches hang down like curtains,

Swaying ever so slowly.

And there,

Resting beneath the largest willow,

Sits a train car.

The relaxation car is painted in soft shades of cream and pale yellow.

Its windows are frosted with delicate patterns that look like flowers and vines.

But something is clearly wrong.

The car sits tilted at an odd angle.

One of its wheels is stuck in a small ditch.

Aw,

No!

Whistle squeaks.

It's trapped!

As you approach,

Door opens in the side of the car,

And out steps a cloud.

At least,

That's what it looks like at first.

Then you realize it's a person,

Made entirely of soft,

Fluffy cloud stuff,

Wearing what appears to be a very comfortable bathrobe.

Hello?

The cloud person says in a voice like a gentle sigh.

I'm Cumula,

The Keeper of Relaxation.

I've been stuck here since the car's disconnected.

The wheel is caught,

And I'm not solid enough to push.

She demonstrates by trying to push the car,

But her cloudy hands just sort of sink into it without moving it at all.

You walk around the car,

Examining the problem.

The wheel isn't stuck very deep in the ditch,

But it's at an awkward angle.

You think maybe if you could lift one end,

While someone pushed from the other.

Whistle,

You say.

Is there anything around here we could use as a lever,

Like a strong branch or a pole?

Whistle's whiskers twitch thoughtfully.

There's a toolbox in every car.

Let me check inside.

She disappears into the relaxation car,

And returns a moment later,

Dragging a long metal pole,

Which is quite impressive,

Considering she's the size of your thumb.

You help her pull it the rest of the way out.

Together,

You position the pole under the car's frame,

Resting it on a large flat stone.

You push down on one end,

And slowly,

Slowly,

The car lifts just enough.

Cumula,

Understanding immediately,

Pushes herself into a denser form,

And pushes from the other side.

The wheel rolls backward out of the ditch and settles onto level ground with a satisfying thunk.

Oh,

Wonderful,

Cumula sighs with relief.

Thank you so much.

Now I can return to the station.

She looks at you kindly.

Would you like to rest for a moment before continuing?

The relaxation car is very comfortable inside.

You are feeling rather tired from pushing,

So you climb the steps into the car.

Inside,

Everything is impossibly cozy.

The seats are made of something softer than the softest pillow.

Gentle light filters through the frosted windows in warm golden beams.

There's a faint scent of vanilla and lavender in the air.

You sit down on one of the seats,

And instantly,

Your whole body seems to exhale.

Your shoulders drop.

Your jaw unclenches.

Your fingers unfold.

Every bit of tension you didn't even know you were holding melts away,

Like ice cream on a summer day.

That's the magic of the relaxation car,

Cumula says softly,

That reminds your body how to be peaceful.

You could happily stay here forever,

But Whistle gently tugs on your pajama sleeve.

Oh,

We should keep moving.

We have four more cars to find.

Reluctantly,

You stand up,

Though you notice your body still feels that wonderful looseness,

Like you're made of warm honey.

You help Cumula and Whistle attach a long coupling chain to the front of the relaxation car,

And Cumula says she'll float-push the car back to the station while you continue searching.

Whistle checks the track finder.

Now it's glowing orange.

The drowsy car is this way,

She says,

Pointing toward a hillside in the distance.

You set off together,

Walking through the meadow and up a gentle slope.

The path leads you through a tunnel made of flowering vines that smell faintly of chamomile and honey.

When you emerge on the other side,

You find yourself at the edge of a huge field filled with thousands upon thousands of fluffy dandelion puffs,

All gone to seed.

This is the field of pleasant sighs,

Whistle says.

Every dandelion here grew from a contented breath.

You walk carefully through the field,

Trying not to disturb the dandelions,

But of course it's impossible with each step.

Some of the seeds take flight,

Drifting up into the air in lazy spirals.

The field is so vast that the dandelion seeds float everywhere,

Swirling gently in the air like snow,

But slower,

Much,

Much slower.

And there,

In the middle of the field,

You spot the drowsy car.

This one is painted in shades of dusty blue and soft gray,

And its windows are slightly fogged,

Like someone's been breathing on them.

Unlike the relaxation car,

This one doesn't appear to be stuck or damaged,

But there's no one around it.

Hello?

Whistle calls.

Is anyone here?

A long,

Drawn-out yawn answers.

It seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Then a door on the drowsy car opens,

And out wobbles a large bear wearing striped pajamas.

He yawns again so wide that his whole face disappears into the yawn.

Sorry,

The bear mumbles.

I can't stop yawning.

I'm Umper,

Keeper of Drowsiness.

Ever since the car's disconnected,

I've been stuck in a yawning loop.

I can't stay awake long enough to move the car back to the station and keep dozing off.

As if to demonstrate,

His eyes start to close.

His head drops forward.

He's asleep,

Standing up.

Umper?

Whistle squeaks.

Wake up!

Umper jerks awake.

Oh,

What?

Sorry,

Yeah,

So,

Sorry,

Where were we?

What were we talking about?

Uh,

His eyes start to close again.

You realize the problem.

Umper is too drowsy to guide the car back.

But someone needs to steer it.

The car can't go by itself.

What if we help you stay awake just long enough to get back to the station,

You suggest?

Is there anything that helps you wake up a little?

Umper thinks hard,

His eyes fighting to stay open.

Uh,

Songs,

He murmurs.

Lively songs help.

Or conversation.

Or counting backwards from 100.

Oh,

I could sing.

It moves at the pace of honey dripping from a spoon.

Back down the hill.

Through the tunnel of flowering vines.

And across the meadow toward the station.

By the time you reach the Dreamland Central Station,

Umper is asleep at the controls.

But it doesn't matter.

The car coasts the last few feet,

Comes to a gentle stop right behind the relaxation car.

Cumula helps connect the two cars together with a soft click.

Two down,

Three to go.

Whistle checks the track finder again.

This time it glows yellow.

The drifting car,

She says.

She looks at you apologetically.

Are you getting tired?

We can rest if you need to.

You are tired,

Actually.

That wonderful looseness from the relaxation car and the sleepy atmosphere of the drowsy car have made your eyelids feel pleasantly heavy.

I'm okay,

You say.

Where's the next car?

The track finder points toward a lake you hadn't noticed before.

The water is perfectly still and reflects the stars so clearly that you can't tell where the lake ends and the sky begins.

It looks like you could walk right up to the stars themselves if you wanted to.

The Mirror Lake,

Whistle says.

Also called the Lake of Reflection.

You walk along the shore and the water is so clear and still that your footsteps don't even ripple it.

And there,

Floating on the surface of the lake like a boat,

Is the drifting car.

This one is painted in shades of silver and pearl,

And it seems to shimmer like it's not entirely solid.

Standing on the shore,

Looking at the car with a puzzled expression,

Is a cat,

But not an ordinary cat.

This one is translucent and slightly see-through,

And seems to flicker between being perfectly visible and being barely there at all.

That's Shimmer,

Whistle explains,

Keeper of Drifting.

She exists in that in-between state,

Not quite awake and not quite asleep.

How did the car end up on the lake,

You call to Shimmer.

Shimmer turns to you,

Her form solidifying slightly.

When the car's disconnected,

The drifting car drifted,

She says in a voice that sounds like it's coming from very far away,

Or maybe right next to your ear,

It's hard to tell.

But now it's drifted too far from shore and I can't quite solidify enough to wait out to get it.

She flickers,

Becoming almost invisible for a moment,

Before shimmering back into view.

You look at the car floating peacefully on the mere lake.

It's not far from shore,

Maybe 20 feet,

But it might as well be a mile if no one can reach it.

What if we could pull it to shore,

You suggest.

Is there a rope on the car?

There should be,

Shimmer says,

Flickering.

But someone would need to get to the car first.

You look at the lake.

The water is so still,

So perfect,

That stepping into it seems almost wrong,

Like disturbing a painting.

But then you remember,

This is the lake of reflection.

Maybe it will show you the way.

You sit down at the water's edge and take off your shoes.

You dip your toes in.

The water is neither warm nor cold.

It's exactly the temperature of nothing,

Of air,

Of breathing.

You slide in up to your ankles,

Then your knees.

The water holds you up,

Not like regular water.

You don't have to swim or tread.

You simply float,

Held gently by the surface,

As if the lake itself is supporting you.

You lie back,

And the water cradles you like a hand,

And you float toward the drifting car,

Without even trying.

It's the most peaceful thing you've ever experienced.

You're not swimming.

You're not sinking.

You're just drifting.

Your body feels weightless.

Your mind feels quiet.

You could float here forever and ever,

Just existing,

Just being held.

Don't drift too far,

Whistle calls from the shore,

Her voice small and distant.

Remember the car.

You allow yourself to drift until you bump gently against the side of the drifting car.

You reach up and grab a railing,

Pulling yourself up the small ladder on the side.

Inside the car,

You find a coil of silvery rope.

You tie one end to the railing,

And toss the other end toward shore.

The rope lands perfectly at Shimmer's feet.

She solidifies just enough to grab it,

And together,

With whistle,

They pull the drifting car toward shore.

You stay on the car,

Lying on the soft floor.

Looking up at the stars,

Being towed gently back to land.

When the car reaches the shore,

You climb down,

Feeling like you're moving through a pleasant dream.

Shimmer and Whistle help you attach the drifting car to the drowsy car.

And now,

You have three cars in a row.

No more,

Whistle says encouragingly.

You're doing wonderfully.

The track finder glows green now,

Pointing toward a forest of tall,

Dark trees.

The thumber car is in the deep woods,

Whistle says.

That's where the really restful sleep happens.

You walk toward the forest,

Your steps slow and easy.

Everything feels soft-edged now,

Like the world has gentle corners.

The trees in the deep woods are unlike any you've seen.

Their bark is dark and smooth,

And their leaves are the deep green of the deepest sleep.

Between the trees,

Hammocks made of spider silk sway gently,

And in them,

Various creatures sleep peacefully.

All breathing slowly,

All resting deeply.

The forest floor is covered in soft moss that cushions every step.

The air smells like rain,

And the earth,

And growing things.

And there,

On a side track that branches off from the main path,

Sits the slumber car.

This car is painted the color of night sky,

Just before complete darkness.

Deep indigo touched with purple.

Its windows are dark,

And everything about it seems hushed,

And still,

And sacred,

Like a library or a temple.

Sitting on the steps of the car is an owl,

Large and magnificent,

With feathers and shades of grey and brown.

Her eyes are closed,

And she seems to be in a very deep sleep herself.

That's Luna,

Whistle whispers,

Keeper of slumber.

She must be in one of her deep sleeps.

She's very powerful,

But she sleeps so deeply that sometimes it's hard to wake her up.

You approach quietly,

Not wanting to startle her.

But before you reach the steps,

Luna's eyes open.

They're golden,

And knowing,

And kind.

Oh,

I'm not asleep,

She says in a voice like dark honey.

I'm simply resting in that deep,

Restorative place.

I've been waiting for you.

For me,

You ask,

Surprised.

Someone needed to come help me reconnect the cars,

Luna says.

Someone who understands the journey from wakefulness to sleep.

Who has travelled this path themselves,

Even if they don't always complete it easily.

She looks at you with those wise,

Golden eyes.

You're tired right now,

Aren't you?

You nod.

You are tired.

The kind of tired that feels heavy in your bones,

But in a good way.

The slumber car can't move us on its own,

Luna explains.

It requires something specific to power it back to the station.

It runs on the energy of true restfulness.

The kind that comes from a body that has truly released tension and allowed itself to be heavy,

To be tired,

To settle in to rest.

Oh,

How do I give it that,

You ask?

You already are,

Luna says gently,

Simply by being here.

Tired and willing to help.

You're creating the right energy,

But the car needs a bit more.

It needs someone to truly rest,

Even for just a moment,

Inside it.

To show it what deep rest feels like.

Luna gestures to the steps.

And you climb up into the slumber car.

Inside,

Everything is dim and quiet and peaceful.

The seats are made of something darker and softer than even the seats in the relaxation car.

You sit down,

And immediately,

Your whole body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds.

Not in a bad way,

But in the way that means you're finally,

Finally allowing yourself to be heavy instead of fighting to stay alert.

Your eyes close on their own.

You feel yourself settling,

Like a stone finding its place at the bottom of a pond.

For just a moment,

You exist in that space of deep,

Dreamless rest,

Where nothing hurts and nothing worries,

And there's only the steady stream of breathing,

And the gentle darkness behind your eyelids.

When you open your eyes,

Was it just a few seconds later?

A few minutes?

The slumber car is humming gently.

You can feel it thrumming with power,

Ready to move.

Luna smiles at you as you step outside.

Thank you,

She says.

You gave it exactly what it needed.

With Luna guiding it,

The slumber car rolls smoothly through the deep woods,

Back across the meadow,

And into Dreamland Central Station,

Where Cumula and Shimmer help attach it to the drifting car.

Four cars down,

One to go.

The dream car,

Whistle says,

Checking the track finder one last time.

It glows with a swirling rainbow of colors.

It's the most important car of all.

Without it,

Passengers reach deep sleep,

But never cross into actual dreams.

It's not far.

She leads you to the far end of the platform,

Where the tracks curve away behind a hill.

As you round the bend,

You see something extraordinary.

The dream car sits on the tracks,

But it's not like any of the other cars.

It seems to change color every moment.

Now silver.

Now gold.

Now blue.

Now purple.

Now all the colors at once.

Its windows show different scenes in each pane.

Flying over mountains.

Swimming with dolphins.

Running through fields.

Talking to animals.

Visiting impossible places.

Standing beside the car is the conductor you've heard so much about.

She's tall and dignified,

Wearing a pressed uniform and a proper conductor's hat.

Her pocket watch hangs from a chain,

And she checks it as you approach.

Right on time.

She says,

Smiling,

Well done.

I knew if we sent the call through the pajama portal,

The right helper would come.

Why didn't you bring the dream car back yourself?

Whistle asks,

A bit indignant.

The conductor chuckles.

Because the dream car can only be moved by someone who still carries the gift of imagination.

Someone who still knows how to dream.

Adults like me,

Well,

We've forgotten a bit about that magic.

But young ones like our friend here,

She looks at you kindly.

They remember.

She gestures to the car.

To move the dream car,

You simply need to dream it forward.

Imagine where you want it to go,

And it will take you there.

You're not entirely sure what that means,

But you climb into the dream car.

Inside,

Everything shimmers and shifts.

The seats look comfortable one moment,

And like clouds the next.

The walls show moving pictures of dreams,

Yours and others,

All mixed together.

You sit in the driver's seat,

Though there's no steering wheel.

You close your eyes and think about Dreamland Central Station.

You imagine the dream car rolling along the tracks,

Joining with the other four cars.

You picture all the tired creatures on the platform.

Finally boarding the complete dream railway.

Finally able to complete their journey into restful sleep and dreams.

When you open your eyes,

You're moving.

The dream car glides smoothly along the tracks,

And you're barely doing anything at all.

The car seems to know where to go,

Powered by your imagination and intention.

When you reach the station,

The conductor herself helps attach the dream car to the slumber car.

Now all five cars are connected in proper order.

Relaxation,

Drowsy,

Drifting,

Slumber,

And dream.

The creatures on the platform cheer,

Or at least they cheer as much as exhausted creatures can,

Which sounds more like relieved sighs and happy murmurs.

All aboard,

The conductor calls.

The dream railway is ready for departure.

The creatures line up.

The badger.

The dragons.

The unicorn.

Families of rabbits and foxes.

Sleepy children from a dozen different worlds.

They board the train,

Finding seats in each car,

And through the windows you can see them beginning their journey.

In the relaxation car,

Their shoulders drop.

In the drowsy car,

Their eyes grow heavy.

In the drifting car,

They begin to float in that peaceful in-between.

In the slumber car,

They sink into deep rest.

And in the dream car,

Smiles appear on their faces as dreams begin to unfold.

The conductor checks her pocket watch and nods.

Right on schedule.

Well done.

She looks at you.

I believe it's time for you to board as well.

You've certainly earned your passage.

You realize she's right.

You're very,

Very tired now.

The good kind of tired.

Where your body feels heavy and soft.

And ready for rest.

Whistle hugs your ankle.

It's the biggest hug she can manage.

Thank you for helping us.

She squeaks.

Sweet dreams.

Luna nods wisely from a window.

Shimmer.

Flickers a goodbye.

Umber yawns contentedly.

And Cumula wafts a gentle wave.

You climb aboard the dream railway.

Settling into a seat that feels exactly right.

Through the window,

You see the conductor wave.

And then the train begins to move.

Gently,

Gently.

Smoothly.

Rocking like a cradle on wheels.

You travel through the relaxation car.

Feeling every muscle in your body release.

You travel through the drowsy car.

Your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment.

You travel through the drifting car.

Floating in that peaceful place.

Where thoughts become soft and scattered.

You travel through the slumber car.

Sinking deep,

Deep,

Deep into the most restful peace.

And then you enter the dream car.

And suddenly,

You're back in your own bed.

In your own room.

With your own blankets pulled warm around you.

But you're also still on the dream car.

You're in both places at once.

Which makes perfect sense in that dreamy way that things do.

The train walks gently,

Gently.

Moving through a landscape of stars and soft clouds.

Through the window,

You see the most beautiful things.

Gardens of night-blooming flowers.

Rivers of starlight.

Mountains made of peaceful sighs.

The railroad tracks stretch ahead.

Gleaming silver in the moonlight.

Leading deeper and deeper into the land of dreams.

Your eyes close.

Too heavy to keep open any longer.

And the last thing you hear is the soft chug,

Chug.

Of the dream railway.

And the gentle whistle calling out into the peaceful night.

The train carries you forward.

Rocking gently,

Steadily.

Taking you exactly where you need to go.

All the way to sleep.

All the way to dreams.

All the way home.

Sweet dreams.

And don't forget,

You're a great kid.

Night,

Night.