Sleep story · rain, green
A garden in the rain — a slow story for the end of the day, if you are fitting this around other people — for a racing mind
Steady rain on leaves, and a chair under an awning that stays dry.
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 nothing to do about any of it, which is the good part. The watering can by the tap is full and nobody needs it. Water runs off the gutter in a thin, continuous line.
The rain on the roof of the awning is a lower sound than the rain on the leaves. Under the awning it is dry, and the sound is a steady, unhurried patter. The path has gone darker where it is wet, and there are two small puddles near the step.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress.
Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be. Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it.
There is a wooden bench that nobody has sat on for an hour. The rain has settled into the kind that will last all afternoon without getting heavier.
Feel the weight of your head on the pillow. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.
Notice if you're waiting for something to happen. Nothing is scheduled. Notice if you're being hard on yourself about any of this.
Let your forehead go cool and smooth. Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them.
Leave it there. Stay.
Let the room get slightly further away. Nothing needs deciding tonight. Let the dark be ordinary.
It is designed to fit around other people’s schedules.
The end. Sleep well.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for rain, green.