Sleep story · travel, anonymous
A hotel room somewhere — a slow story for the end of the day, when you are cold and want to be warm — for a night when you do not want to think
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 curtains are heavy and close properly, which is rarer than it should be. There is a bottle of water on the bedside table with the cap already loosened. The air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute.
Your case is open on the luggage rack, half unpacked. A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it. The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound.
Let your shoulder blades spread out and drop. Your elbows can stop being hinges for now.
Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.
The bathroom light is off, and the fan has finally stopped. The room is on the fourth floor, and the window looks out onto a street with one lit shop.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed.
The pillow is slightly too soft, and you fold it in half, which fixes it. Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful.
Let your forehead go cool and smooth. Let the back of your neck lengthen out.
There is a small card on the desk with the breakfast times on it, which do not matter tonight. The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on.
Feel your cheeks let go. Notice your hips, wide and settled.
Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful. There is a small card on the desk with the breakfast times on it, which do not matter tonight.
Let your lower back sink down into the mattress. Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them.
The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound. Your case is open on the luggage rack, half unpacked.
If you're sleepy, sit up a little. Or let the sleepiness be there. If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background.
Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow. Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy.
Sleep. Softer.
Let the thoughts come and go without you getting up to answer. Nothing here needs following closely. Slower.
You can stop listening properly. Just the breath. Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet.
Get a blanket first. Being cold defeats the point.
Let everything get quiet, including this.
21 paragraphs, roughly 3 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, anonymous.
If this story does not settle you, try A field under snow — a slow story for the end of the day, if you are tired of apps — for an overtired night, A library at closing time, if you are doing this in the middle of the day — for a racing mind or A kitchen late at night (a sleep story), when you are cold and want to be warm — for a restless night.