Sleep story · warm, winter
A fire dying down (a sleep story), when you only have a few minutes — for jet lag
The last hour of a fire, when it stops being a fire and becomes warmth.
Reading it yourself. Back to the audio version.
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. The fire will be out in half an hour and nobody needs to watch it happen.
The ash in the grate is deep and soft and grey at the edges. The dog is asleep on the rug, on the side nearest the heat. There is a blanket over your legs that you did not consciously arrange.
Feel your cheeks let go. Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up.
Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine. Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other.
The heat reaches about a metre from the fire and stops. There is a smell of woodsmoke in the room that will still be there tomorrow.
Let your thumbs rest where they landed. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.
Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy. Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow.
Every few minutes a piece of wood falls in on itself with a small collapse of sparks. The fire has stopped being flames and is now mostly red shapes that shift and settle.
Feel your wrists loosen. Notice your hips, wide and settled.
The logs beside the fireplace are down to the last two. The room has gone darker than you noticed, and the light is all low and orange.
Let your forearms get heavy and warm. Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it.
The dog is asleep on the rug, on the side nearest the heat. The fire has stopped being flames and is now mostly red shapes that shift and settle.
Let your toes stop holding on to anything. Let the back of your neck lengthen out.
Every few minutes a piece of wood falls in on itself with a small collapse of sparks. The logs beside the fireplace are down to the last two.
If you've lost track of where we were, you haven't lost anything important. Notice if you've been frowning at your own thoughts.
Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you. Let your shoulder blades spread out and drop.
Let the quiet be boring. Slower now.
You can stop listening properly. Nothing needs deciding tonight. Let them.
Just the weight. Let it all get further away. Nothing here needs following closely.
A few minutes is the whole requirement.
Goodnight. There is nothing left to do.