Sleep story · quiet, books
A library at closing time (a sleep story), when nothing else has worked today — for an overtired night
The last hour, when the lights go down row by row.
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
Your own book is heavy in your hands, and you have stopped reading it. Someone is pushing a trolley two rows away, and you can hear each wheel separately. The reading room you are in has one lamp left on, and it is the one above your table.
The library closed twenty minutes ago, and the staff are working along the far shelves, switching off sections. The carpet has flattened every sound in the building down to nothing. The windows are dark enough now to reflect the room back at you.
Feel the weight of your head on the pillow. Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up.
Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress. Your elbows can stop being hinges for now.
The clock above the door is the old kind, with a second hand that moves in small jumps. A book lies open on the next table, face down, which is technically not allowed.
Your ankles can go loose now. Let your ribs stop working so hard.
Let your forearms get heavy and warm. Your chest can be still now.
Everything here will still be here tomorrow. There is a trolley of returned books beside the desk, waiting to be put back.
Notice the pull to make this mean something. It doesn't have to. If your body wants to move, let it move, then come back.
Let the back of your neck lengthen out. Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be.
Let the dark be ordinary. You do not have to count them.
Sleep. Let the sound of this go soft at the edges. Let the breath be the only thing you are doing.
Nothing else has worked today. That is not a reason to skip this.
That is the end of the story. Sleep is the next part, and it does not need instructions.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for quiet, books.
If this story does not settle you, try A field under snow, when you are somewhere noisy — for an overtired night, A lake before dawn — a slow story for the end of the day, after a difficult conversation — for an overtired night or A bus at night, if you are doing this in the middle of the day — for a racing mind.