Sleep story · travel, anonymous
A hotel room somewhere — a slow story for the end of the day, when you have just finished work — for an overtired night
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
A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it. The bathroom light is off, and the fan has finally stopped. Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful.
The room is on the fourth floor, and the window looks out onto a street with one lit shop. 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.
Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Let your thumbs rest where they landed.
Let your ribs stop working so hard. Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs.
The air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute. The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on.
Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy. Let the back of your neck lengthen out.
Your elbows can stop being hinges for now. Let your hands be completely still.
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.
Let your toes stop holding on to anything. Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be.
The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound. Your case is open on the luggage rack, half unpacked.
Notice your hips, wide and settled. Let your calves spread out and flatten.
The bathroom light is off, and the fan has finally stopped. Your case is open on the luggage rack, half unpacked.
Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you. Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow.
The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on. The room is on the fourth floor, and the window looks out onto a street with one lit shop.
Notice the exact moment your attention left. You probably won't catch it. That's normal. If you're judging your performance, that's the same habit as judging everything else.
Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed. Let the mattress take all of it.
Sleep. Just the dark.
Let the breath be the only thing you are doing. Let it all get further away. Let the dark be ordinary.
Nothing here needs following closely. Let the thoughts come and go without you getting up to answer. Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet.
The gap right after work is the easiest one to use.
Let the words go now, and take the quiet with you.
21 paragraphs, roughly 4 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, anonymous.
If this story does not settle you, try Sleep story: a hotel room somewhere, before something difficult — for the hours after a late shift, A boat at anchor — a slow story for the end of the day, when you are on your own — for jet lag or A hotel room somewhere (a sleep story), when you want to be left alone — for a racing mind.