Sleep story · travel, anonymous
A hotel room somewhere, when you are too tired to try hard — for the hours after a late shift
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. The pillow is slightly too soft, and you fold it in half, which fixes it. 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. The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound. Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful.
Your ankles can go loose now. Let your palms open if they were closed.
Notice your hips, wide and settled. Let your ribs stop working so hard.
The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on. A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it.
Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Your elbows can stop being hinges for now.
Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow. Let the mattress take all of it.
Your case is open on the luggage rack, half unpacked. The room is on the fourth floor, and the window looks out onto a street with one lit shop.
Your fingers can stop doing anything at all. Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be.
There is a small card on the desk with the breakfast times on it, which do not matter tonight. There is a bottle of water on the bedside table with the cap already loosened.
Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy. Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other.
If you're irritated, that's allowed. Irritation is just weather. If you're sleepy, sit up a little. Or let the sleepiness be there.
Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress. Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up.
Just the weight. Nothing needs deciding tonight.
Stay with the weight of your body. They will find their own way out. Sleep.
Let the breath be the only thing you are doing. Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet. Let the thoughts come and go without you getting up to answer.
Too tired to try hard is exactly the right amount of tired for this.
That is the end of the story. Sleep is the next part, and it does not need instructions.
18 paragraphs, roughly 3 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, anonymous.