Sleep story · travel, anonymous
A hotel room somewhere, when you are too tired to try hard — for winding down
A room you did not choose, in a city you do not have to know.
Reading it yourself. Back to the audio version.
Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful. The pillow is slightly too soft, and you fold it in half, which fixes it. The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on.
The bathroom light is off, and the fan has finally stopped. The air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute. The curtains are heavy and close properly, which is rarer than it should be.
Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed. Let the mattress take all of it.
Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you. Let your shoulder blades spread out and drop.
There is a small card on the desk with the breakfast times on it, which do not matter tonight. Your case is open on the luggage rack, half unpacked.
Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress. Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part.
Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be. Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine.
The room is on the fourth floor, and the window looks out onto a street with one lit shop. A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it.
Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them. Let your hands be completely still.
There is a bottle of water on the bedside table with the cap already loosened. The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound.
Let your palms open if they were closed. Notice your hips, wide and settled.
Notice the difference between a thought and the space around it. If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background.
Your chest can be still now. Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other.
Let your breathing do the rest. Let the dark be ordinary.
You can stop listening properly. Let the sound of this go soft at the edges. Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet.
You do not have to count them. Let the breath be the only thing you are doing. Let the next part go past without you.
Too tired to try hard is exactly the right amount of tired for this.
The end. Sleep well.