Sleep story · still, water
A lake before dawn, when you are at home and cannot settle — for winding down
Flat water, no wind, and light that has not arrived yet.
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 air is cold in a clean way, and smells of water and cut grass. The sky is the colour of unpolished pewter. The water makes a small sound against the posts, once every few seconds.
There is a coil of rope on the deck, still damp from yesterday. A single bird crosses the water low and slow, without calling. The mist sits about a foot above the surface and does not move.
Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be. Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth.
Let your forehead go cool and smooth. Let your forearms get heavy and warm.
Somewhere behind you, a gate opens and closes. The far shore is a dark line with no detail in it yet.
Let your thumbs rest where they landed. Notice your hips, wide and settled.
Notice any part of you that wants this to be over. If you're judging your performance, that's the same habit as judging everything else.
Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.
Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet. Just the breath.
Just the dark. Softer. Let the next part go past without you.
Being at home and unable to settle is a very specific problem.
That is the end of the story. Sleep is the next part, and it does not need instructions.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for still, water.
If this story does not settle you, try The house after everyone is asleep (a sleep story), when you are too tired to try hard — for jet lag, A field under snow (a sleep story), before something difficult — for a night when you do not want to think or A caravan by the sea — a slow story for the end of the day, when you only have a few minutes — for a night when you do not want to think.