Sleep story · warm, home
A kitchen late at night, when you have just finished work — 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.
Screen on or off — we suggest dimming it, or simply closing your eyes after the first paragraph.
The story, in full
There is a cup of tea beside you that has gone past drinking temperature. Through the window you can see the back garden, which is doing nothing at all. The clock on the oven shows a time that feels later than it is.
A plate dries on the rack with a slow drip every so often. Your chair is pulled out slightly, the way you left it. The tea towel is folded over the rail, still slightly damp.
Feel the weight of your head on the pillow. Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine.
Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy. Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth.
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.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Your elbows can stop being hinges for now.
Notice whether you're breathing or holding. Start breathing again. If your mind is quiet, don't grab at it. Quiet comes and goes too.
Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress. Feel your wrists loosen.
The words can start to blur now. Sleep.
Let the dark be ordinary. Leave it there. Let the sound of this go soft at the edges.
The gap right after work is the easiest one to use.
The room is dark, the day is finished, and nothing is required of you.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for warm, home.
If this story does not settle you, try A boat at anchor — a slow story for the end of the day, on a low-energy afternoon — for a racing mind, The night train, when you are short on time — for an overtired night or A bus at night, after eating too much — for the hours after a late shift.