Sleep story · warm, winter
A fire dying down — a slow story for the end of the day, when you have just finished work — for waking too early
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 ash in the grate is deep and soft and grey at the edges. 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.
The fire will be out in half an hour and nobody needs to watch it happen. The logs beside the fireplace are down to the last two. The dog is asleep on the rug, on the side nearest the heat.
Feel your wrists loosen. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.
Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow. Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed.
Somewhere in the house, a door closes and everything goes quiet again. The heat reaches about a metre from the fire and stops.
Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away. Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress.
Notice if you're waiting for something to happen. Nothing is scheduled. If you feel emotional, you don't have to explain it to anyone, including yourself.
Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it. Let your thumbs rest where they landed.
Slower. Slower now.
Let the sound of this go soft at the edges. You do not have to count them. Let the dark be ordinary.
The gap right after work is the easiest one to use.
Goodnight. There is nothing left to do.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for warm, winter.
If this story does not settle you, try A garden in the rain (a sleep story), on a day that started badly — for an overtired night, A bus at night (a sleep story), when you want to finish something — for winding down or Sleep story: a kitchen late at night, when your attention is scattered — for a restless night.