Stray Feathers

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I am sleeping. As the tracks curve slightly left and right, I'm gently jolted in the carriage. The feather down is pleasantly cool, cocooning me in my own body warmth. I feel like a child, precious and well looked after, safe in this carriage that has purposefully carried us through the night.

I am aware of the streaming sunlight even as I drift in and out of sleep. It's hard to tell where sleep ends and consciousness begins but I know that I have woken before everybody else. I savour the moment of having this young sunshine all to myself, feeling rested and glowing with gratitude. I open my eyes and sit up to take in the view of the slumbering people, the whiteness of the downs, the floating stray feathers. Everything resonates to the beat of the engine. There's nowhere I'd rather be.

I snuggle back down again. The softness of the feathers feels like an extension of my body. The sun envelopes the carriage in warmth as we rattle along. My heart is light.

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