Sleep story · sea, still
A lighthouse at the end of a long day (a sleep story), when you have been putting it off — for winding down
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 lighthouse turns once every fifteen seconds, and you have stopped counting it. Your coat is on the hook by the door, still wet at the shoulders. The wind is doing a low, steady thing against the glass.
The tea in your hands is too hot to drink and you are just holding it. 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.
Your ankles can go loose now. Let your toes stop holding on to anything.
Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up. Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed.
Below, the sea is doing what it does at night, which is mostly nothing. A ship passes in the distance with its lights on, and then it does not.
Let your forearms get heavy and warm. Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head.
Notice your hips, wide and settled. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.
The window is thick and slightly green at the edges. There is a chair pulled up to the window that fits exactly one person.
If you're bored, stay with the boredom for a moment. It's usually thinner than it looks. If you're distracted by a sound, let the sound be the object for a moment.
Let your lower back sink down into the mattress. Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them.
Slower now. Just the dark.
Softer. The words can start to blur now. Let the quiet be boring.
You have been putting this off. Starting is the only step that matters.
Let everything get quiet, including this.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for sea, still.
If this story does not settle you, try Sleep story: a lighthouse at the end of a long day, when you need something unremarkable — for a night when you do not want to think, A boat at anchor — a slow story for the end of the day, when you are too tired to try hard — for a night when you do not want to think or A library at closing time (a sleep story), when your attention is scattered — for jet lag.