Sleep story · water, slow
A boat at anchor — a slow story for the end of the day, when you have been putting it off — for the hours after a late shift
A small harbour, a rope that creaks, and a boat that moves about a metre in the night.
Lights off. Press begin and let the story read itself to you, at the pace of sleep.
Screen on or off — we suggest dimming it, or simply closing your eyes after the first paragraph.
The story, in full
The hull moves against the water in a slow, regular way. Everything in the cabin is stowed, so nothing rattles. The cabin is low, and you have to bend your head to get into the bunk.
The harbour is behind you, with three lights still on and the rest dark. The boat is anchored in eight metres of water, and the chain makes a sound as it moves. The rope to the anchor creaks as the boat turns very slightly.
Let the back of your neck lengthen out. Let your hands be completely still.
Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed. Your elbows can stop being hinges for now.
The blanket smells faintly of salt and diesel. The bunk is narrow, and you have the whole of it.
Let your thumbs rest where they landed. Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them.
If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background. If a worry shows up, name it quietly and let it sit beside you.
Feel your wrists loosen. Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth.
Nothing needs deciding tonight. Softer.
Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself. Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet. Let your breathing do the rest.
You have been putting this off. Starting is the only step that matters.
I will stop here. The quiet will carry on without the words.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for water, slow.
If this story does not settle you, try Sleep story: a bus at night, if you are tired of apps — for waking too early, A hotel room somewhere — a slow story for the end of the day, when you want to finish something — for winding down or A caravan by the sea (a sleep story), when you feel fine and want to stay that way — for the hours after a late shift.