Sleep story · quiet, books
A library at closing time (a sleep story), when you are not in the mood — for a restless 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
A book lies open on the next table, face down, which is technically not allowed. Everything here will still be here tomorrow. The windows are dark enough now to reflect the room back at you.
The last of the day's light is going out of the high windows. There is a trolley of returned books beside the desk, waiting to be put back. Someone is pushing a trolley two rows away, and you can hear each wheel separately.
Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away. Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be.
Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth. Notice your hips, wide and settled.
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.
Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs. Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it.
Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Feel your wrists loosen.
The clock above the door is the old kind, with a second hand that moves in small jumps. Your own book is heavy in your hands, and you have stopped reading it.
Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed. Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed.
The carpet has flattened every sound in the building down to nothing. The air smells of paper, dust and floor polish.
Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them. Let the mattress take all of it.
Notice if you've been frowning at your own thoughts. If you're bored, stay with the boredom for a moment. It's usually thinner than it looks.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.
Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself. Let the thoughts come and go without you getting up to answer.
Let the breath be the only thing you are doing. Let each breath be a little smaller than the last. Let your breathing do the rest.
Just the weight. Nothing needs deciding tonight. You do not have to count them.
Not being in the mood is a normal starting point.
Let this be the last thing you listen to.
18 paragraphs, roughly 3 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for quiet, books.
If this story does not settle you, try Sleep story: a library at closing time, when you are doing this for the first time — for an overtired night, A lighthouse at the end of a long day, before you go back to something hard — for winding down or A kitchen late at night, when you feel restless rather than tired — for an overtired night.