Sleep story · quiet, books
A library at closing time — a slow story for the end of the day, after a long day — for jet lag
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. The clock above the door is the old kind, with a second hand that moves in small jumps. Everything here will still be here tomorrow.
Your own book is heavy in your hands, and you have stopped reading it. The last of the day's light is going out of the high windows. The windows are dark enough now to reflect the room back at you.
Feel the weight of your head on the pillow. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Let the mattress take all of it.
The air smells of paper, dust and floor polish. The library closed twenty minutes ago, and the staff are working along the far shelves, switching off sections.
Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy. Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up.
If your mind is quiet, don't grab at it. Quiet comes and goes too. Notice how you're sitting. Adjust if you need to. Then settle again.
Your fingers can stop doing anything at all. Let your forearms get heavy and warm.
Slower. Let the quiet be boring.
You can stop listening properly. The words can start to blur now. Almost nothing to do now.
Use it at the end of a long day, not at the start of one.
No more sentences. Just the weight of you in the bed.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for quiet, books.