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 winding down
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
Your case is open on the luggage rack, half unpacked. There is a small card on the desk with the breakfast times on it, which do not matter tonight. The pillow is slightly too soft, and you fold it in half, which fixes it.
A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it. Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful. The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on.
Let your forehead go cool and smooth. Notice your hips, wide and settled.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other.
The room is on the fourth floor, and the window looks out onto a street with one lit shop. The bathroom light is off, and the fan has finally stopped.
Let your thumbs rest where they landed. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow.
The air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute. There is a bottle of water on the bedside table with the cap already loosened.
Let the back of your neck lengthen out. Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy.
The curtains are heavy and close properly, which is rarer than it should be. The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound.
Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it. Let your forearms get heavy and warm.
The pillow is slightly too soft, and you fold it in half, which fixes it. A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it.
Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up. Feel your wrists loosen.
The curtains are heavy and close properly, which is rarer than it should be. The air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute.
If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background. If your body wants to move, let it move, then come back.
Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.
Stay. The words can start to blur now.
Just the dark. Stay with the weight of your body. Let the dark be ordinary.
Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself. Slower now. Let the breath be the only thing you are doing.
Get a blanket first. Being cold defeats the point.
The end. Sleep well.
21 paragraphs, roughly 4 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, anonymous.
If this story does not settle you, try Sleep story: the night train, if you are doing this instead of scrolling — for the hours after a late shift, Sleep story: an attic room, when you need something unremarkable — for an overtired night or A library at closing time (a sleep story), when you are waiting for something — for waking too early.