Sleep story · warm, home
A kitchen late at night — a slow story for the end of the day, when you are doing this for the first time — for waking too early
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.
Screen on or off — we suggest dimming it, or simply closing your eyes after the first paragraph.
The story, in full
The clock on the oven shows a time that feels later than it is. There is a cup of tea beside you that has gone past drinking temperature. There is a bowl of fruit nobody has touched since Tuesday.
The fridge motor stops, and the room gets even quieter. A plate dries on the rack with a slow drip every so often. The tea towel is folded over the rail, still slightly damp.
Your chest can be still now. Feel your cheeks let go.
Let the mattress take all of it. Let your hands be completely still.
There is no reason to be awake, and no reason to move either. The kitchen is warm, and the small light over the hob is the only one on.
Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow. Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy.
Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed.
Your chair is pulled out slightly, the way you left it. Through the window you can see the back garden, which is doing nothing at all.
If your body wants to move, let it move, then come back. Notice any urge to check something. You can wait two more minutes.
Feel your wrists loosen. Your elbows can stop being hinges for now.
Stay. Nothing here needs following closely.
Sleep. Let the sound of this go soft at the edges. Let each breath be a little smaller than the last.
If this is your first go, stay with the plainest version of the instructions.
Let the words go now, and take the quiet with you.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for warm, home.
If this story does not settle you, try A lake before dawn (a sleep story), when you want something simple — for winding down, A bus at night, if you are sceptical about all of this — for a restless night or A boat at anchor — a slow story for the end of the day, on a low-energy afternoon — for a racing mind.