Sleep story · warm, winter
A fire dying down (a sleep story), if you are doing this instead of scrolling — for a restless night
The last hour of a fire, when it stops being a fire and becomes warmth.
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 heat reaches about a metre from the fire and stops. The room has gone darker than you noticed, and the light is all low and orange. The fire has stopped being flames and is now mostly red shapes that shift and settle.
Somewhere in the house, a door closes and everything goes quiet again. The window is black, and the glass is cold if you touch it. There is a blanket over your legs that you did not consciously arrange.
Let your toes stop holding on to anything. Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be.
Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.
The ash in the grate is deep and soft and grey at the edges. The fire will be out in half an hour and nobody needs to watch it happen.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Notice your hips, wide and settled.
Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them. Your elbows can stop being hinges for now.
There is a smell of woodsmoke in the room that will still be there tomorrow. Every few minutes a piece of wood falls in on itself with a small collapse of sparks.
Your mind will leave about a hundred times. Come back about a hundred times. If you're counting the minutes, that's fine. Count them and come back.
Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow. Feel your wrists loosen.
Almost nothing to do now. Let each breath be a little smaller than the last.
Stay. Let the breath be the only thing you are doing. Let it all get further away.
Choosing this over scrolling counts as a good decision, even a small one.
The end. Sleep well.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for warm, winter.
If this story does not settle you, try A field under snow — a slow story for the end of the day, when you are too tired to try hard — for a night when you do not want to think, The house after everyone is asleep (a sleep story), when you want to be left alone — for a night when you do not want to think or A field under snow — a slow story for the end of the day, when the house is busy — for the hours after a late shift.