Sleep story · sea, still
A lighthouse at the end of a long day — a slow story for the end of the day, after eating too much — for a night when you do not want to think
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
Your coat is on the hook by the door, still wet at the shoulders. The window is thick and slightly green at the edges. There is a chair pulled up to the window that fits exactly one person.
A ship passes in the distance with its lights on, and then it does not. The tea in your hands is too hot to drink and you are just holding it. There is a logbook open on the table with the last entry in someone else's handwriting.
Let your palms open if they were closed. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.
Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed. Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out.
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.
Let your thumbs rest where they landed. Let your calves spread out and flatten.
Let your shoulder blades spread out and drop. Notice how much of you has already stopped moving.
The wind is doing a low, steady thing against the glass. The room at the top is small, round and warm, with a kettle on a ring.
If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background. Your mind will leave about a hundred times. Come back about a hundred times.
Let your ribs stop working so hard. Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be.
Slower now. Stay with the weight of your body.
Just the weight. Let the next part go past without you. Let the sound of this go soft at the edges.
Do this sitting up, not lying down, if you have just eaten.
Goodnight. There is nothing left to do.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for sea, still.
If this story does not settle you, try The house after everyone is asleep, on a low-energy afternoon — for the hours after a late shift, An attic room — a slow story for the end of the day, when you are waiting for something — for the hours after a late shift or A lake before dawn, when you only have a few minutes — for a racing mind.