Sleep story · warm, home

A kitchen late at night — a slow story for the end of the day, when you are at home and cannot settle — for winding down

One small light on, a cooling cup of tea, and the rest of the house dark.

Lights off. Press begin and let the story read itself to you, at the pace of sleep.

Read it myself

Screen on or off — we suggest dimming it, or simply closing your eyes after the first paragraph.

The story, in full

Someone upstairs turns over, and the ceiling creaks once. The clock on the oven shows a time that feels later than it is. The tiles under your feet are cold in one corner and warm in another.

There is a cup of tea beside you that has gone past drinking temperature. The fridge motor stops, and the room gets even quieter. The kitchen is warm, and the small light over the hob is the only one on.

Your elbows can stop being hinges for now. Let your forearms get heavy and warm.

Let the back of your neck lengthen out. Let the mattress take all of it.

Through the window you can see the back garden, which is doing nothing at all. The tea towel is folded over the rail, still slightly damp.

Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it. Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head.

Let your forehead go cool and smooth. Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them.

A plate dries on the rack with a slow drip every so often. There is a bowl of fruit nobody has touched since Tuesday.

Your mind will leave about a hundred times. Come back about a hundred times. If nothing much is happening, that's not a problem. Nothing much is often the point.

Feel the weight of your head on the pillow. Let your thumbs rest where they landed.

Nothing needs deciding tonight. Just the breath.

Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself. They will find their own way out. Nothing here needs following closely.

Being at home and unable to settle is a very specific problem.

The end. Sleep well.

14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for warm, home.