Sleep story · quiet, books
A library at closing time, when you need something unremarkable — for a racing mind
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
The clock above the door is the old kind, with a second hand that moves in small jumps. The reading room you are in has one lamp left on, and it is the one above your table. Everything here will still be here tomorrow.
There is a trolley of returned books beside the desk, waiting to be put back. 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.
Let your forearms get heavy and warm. Let the back of your neck lengthen out.
Let your hands be completely still. Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth.
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.
Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it. Your fingers can stop doing anything at all.
Notice how much of you has already stopped moving. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.
The windows are dark enough now to reflect the room back at you. A book lies open on the next table, face down, which is technically not allowed.
Let your toes stop holding on to anything. Let the mattress take all of it.
Someone is pushing a trolley two rows away, and you can hear each wheel separately. The air smells of paper, dust and floor polish.
Feel the weight of your head on the pillow. Your chest can be still now.
If you feel restless, that's a feeling, not a failure. If you're replaying a conversation, let it play. It'll finish on its own.
Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy. Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow.
Let the sound of this go soft at the edges. Let the next part go past without you.
Sleep. The words can start to blur now. Stay.
You do not have to count them. You can stop listening properly. Slower.
Nothing dramatic happens here, and that is deliberate.
The end. Sleep well.
18 paragraphs, roughly 3 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for quiet, books.
If this story does not settle you, try The house after everyone is asleep — a slow story for the end of the day, when you are short on time — for jet lag, Sleep story: a library at closing time, when you are on your own — for a night when you do not want to think or A kitchen late at night — a slow story for the end of the day, if you have done this a hundred times — for jet lag.