A kitchen late at night, when you feel restless rather than tired — for an overtired night

The story, in full

Through the window you can see the back garden, which is doing nothing at all. The fridge motor stops, and the room gets even quieter. The tea towel is folded over the rail, still slightly damp.

There is a bowl of fruit nobody has touched since Tuesday. There is a cup of tea beside you that has gone past drinking temperature. The kitchen is warm, and the small light over the hob is the only one on.

Feel your cheeks let go. Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out.

Let your hands be completely still. Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy.

A plate dries on the rack with a slow drip every so often. The tiles under your feet are cold in one corner and warm in another.

Let your forearms get heavy and warm. Your fingers can stop doing anything at all.

If a worry shows up, name it quietly and let it sit beside you. Notice any tension that arrived while you weren't looking.

Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Your chest can be still now.

Let the thoughts come and go without you getting up to answer. Nothing here needs following closely.

Just the dark. You can stop listening properly. Leave it there.

Restless is different from tired, and it needs a different approach.

Let everything get quiet, including this.

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