Sleep story · water, slow
A boat at anchor, when you have been meaning to start — for an overtired night
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 boat is anchored in eight metres of water, and the chain makes a sound as it moves. The harbour is behind you, with three lights still on and the rest dark. The hull moves against the water in a slow, regular way.
The water slaps against the side in twos and threes. The cabin is low, and you have to bend your head to get into the bunk. Nothing out here is in a rush, and neither are you.
Feel your cheeks let go. Your elbows can stop being hinges for now.
Let your calves spread out and flatten. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.
The rope to the anchor creaks as the boat turns very slightly. The blanket smells faintly of salt and diesel.
Let your forehead go cool and smooth. Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head.
Let your shoulder blades spread out and drop. Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be.
There is a torch hanging by the hatch, and a chart folded on the table. The bunk is narrow, and you have the whole of it.
If you're sleepy, sit up a little. Or let the sleepiness be there. Notice how quickly your mind labels things: good, bad, boring, nice.
Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed. Let the mattress take all of it.
Nothing here needs following closely. Leave it there.
Softer. The words can start to blur now. Just the dark.
You have been meaning to start. This is the least intimidating way in.
Let everything get quiet, including this.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for water, slow.
If this story does not settle you, try Sleep story: an attic room, if you are doing this in the middle of the day — for waking too early, A bus at night — a slow story for the end of the day, when you are too tired to try hard — for a racing mind or The night train (a sleep story), on a day that started badly — for a night when you do not want to think.