Sleep story · travel, anonymous
A hotel room somewhere (a sleep story), when the day has been loud — for jet lag
A room you did not choose, in a city you do not have to know.
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 bathroom light is off, and the fan has finally stopped. Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful. A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it.
The pillow is slightly too soft, and you fold it in half, which fixes it. The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound. The room is on the fourth floor, and the window looks out onto a street with one lit shop.
Let your forehead go cool and smooth. Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs.
Let your ribs stop working so hard. Let the mattress take all of it.
There is a bottle of water on the bedside table with the cap already loosened. The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Let your shoulder blades spread out and drop.
Let your forearms get heavy and warm. Your ankles can go loose now.
There is a small card on the desk with the breakfast times on it, which do not matter tonight. The air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute.
Notice your hips, wide and settled. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.
Your case is open on the luggage rack, half unpacked. The curtains are heavy and close properly, which is rarer than it should be.
Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up. Your chest can be still now.
Notice if you're waiting for something to happen. Nothing is scheduled. If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background.
Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.
Let it all get further away. Let the thoughts come and go without you getting up to answer.
Just the breath. Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself. Slower.
Let the room get slightly further away. You can stop listening properly. Leave it there.
For days that were loud from the moment they started.
I will stop here. The quiet will carry on without the words.
18 paragraphs, roughly 3 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, anonymous.
If this story does not settle you, try A hotel room somewhere (a sleep story), when you want something simple — for winding down, A kitchen late at night (a sleep story), when you have more time than usual — for jet lag or A garden in the rain, when you have more time than usual — for winding down.