Sleep story · winter, still
A field under snow, when you are too tired to try hard — for an overtired night
Everything muffled, everything white, and no tracks but yours.
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
There is a gate at the far end of the field, half buried and not going anywhere. Your hands are warm inside your gloves and cold at the wrists. The snow on the branches is holding, and every so often a small amount slides off.
The farmhouse at the top of the hill has one window lit. The fence posts are capped with snow and look shorter than they are. Nothing in this field needs to be done today or tomorrow.
Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Let your toes stop holding on to anything.
Feel your wrists loosen. Notice how much of you has already stopped moving.
A single crow crosses the field and lands on the fence, then thinks better of it. The air is so cold it feels dry, and your breath is visible for a long time.
Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away. Let your ribs stop working so hard.
Notice your hips, wide and settled. Let your forearms get heavy and warm.
There are no footprints anywhere except the ones behind you. The snow came down all afternoon and has now stopped, leaving the field completely unmarked.
If you're judging your performance, that's the same habit as judging everything else. If you're bored, stay with the boredom for a moment. It's usually thinner than it looks.
Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be. Your ankles can go loose now.
Let the sound of this go soft at the edges. The words can start to blur now.
They will find their own way out. Stay. You do not have to count them.
Too tired to try hard is exactly the right amount of tired for this.
Let this be the last thing you listen to.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for winter, still.
If this story does not settle you, try A garden in the rain (a sleep story), when you are somewhere noisy — for winding down, A boat at anchor, if you are doing this in the middle of the day — for a night when you do not want to think or A kitchen late at night (a sleep story), when you feel fine and want to stay that way — for a racing mind.