Sleep story · travel, anonymous
A hotel room somewhere — a slow story for the end of the day, when you want to finish something — 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
The room is on the fourth floor, and the window looks out onto a street with one lit shop. The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound. The pillow is slightly too soft, and you fold it in half, which fixes it.
Your case is open on the luggage rack, half unpacked. 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.
Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.
Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them. Let the mattress take all of it.
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.
Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine. Let your hands be completely still.
Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress. 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 air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other.
A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it. The bathroom light is off, and the fan has finally stopped.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Your elbows can stop being hinges for now.
If you're judging your performance, that's the same habit as judging everything else. If you're irritated, that's allowed. Irritation is just weather.
Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up. Let your forehead go cool and smooth.
Let the dark be ordinary. Let the next part go past without you.
Nothing here needs following closely. Leave it there. Just the breath.
Let the quiet be boring. Slower now. Stay with the weight of your body.
Wanting to finish something is a better motivation than wanting to relax.
There is nothing more to follow. Let the rest happen on its own.
18 paragraphs, roughly 3 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, anonymous.
If this story does not settle you, try An attic room (a sleep story), when you are at home and cannot settle — for waking too early, A lighthouse at the end of a long day — a slow story for the end of the day, when you have already had a long week — for winding down or A library at closing time — a slow story for the end of the day, if you are doing this in the middle of the day — for a night when you do not want to think.