Sleep story · sea, still
A lighthouse at the end of a long day (a sleep story), if you have five quiet minutes — for waking too early
One light turning, a kettle, and weather you are on the right side of.
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 room at the top is small, round and warm, with a kettle on a ring. The lighthouse will keep turning whether you watch it or not. Below, the sea is doing what it does at night, which is mostly nothing.
The lighthouse turns once every fifteen seconds, and you have stopped counting it. The light goes out across the water and comes back, and goes out again. Your coat is on the hook by the door, still wet at the shoulders.
Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them. Feel your wrists loosen.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other.
The tea in your hands is too hot to drink and you are just holding it. A ship passes in the distance with its lights on, and then it does not.
Let the mattress take all of it. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.
Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs. Let your ribs stop working so hard.
There is a chair pulled up to the window that fits exactly one person. There is a logbook open on the table with the last entry in someone else's handwriting.
Notice if you're being hard on yourself about any of this. If your mind is quiet, don't grab at it. Quiet comes and goes too.
Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed. Let the back of your neck lengthen out.
Let them. Stay with the weight of your body.
The words can start to blur now. Let it all get further away. You can stop listening properly.
Five quiet minutes is enough. Ten is generous.
There is nothing more to follow. Let the rest happen on its own.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for sea, still.
If this story does not settle you, try A fire dying down, when your attention is scattered — for winding down, A kitchen late at night, when you are not sure this will work — for an overtired night or A field under snow — a slow story for the end of the day, when you are cold and want to be warm — for an overtired night.