Sleep story · sea, still
A lighthouse at the end of a long day, when you are not in the mood — for jet lag
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 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. There is a logbook open on the table with the last entry in someone else's handwriting.
A ship passes in the distance with its lights on, and then it does 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.
Notice how much of you has already stopped moving. Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be.
Your chest can be still now. Your ankles can go loose now.
Your coat is on the hook by the door, still wet at the shoulders. The window is thick and slightly green at the edges.
Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed. Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Let your hands be completely still.
There is a chair pulled up to the window that fits exactly one person. The tea in your hands is too hot to drink and you are just holding it.
If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background. Notice if your attention is in the future. Bring it back to the room.
Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.
Let it all get further away. Almost nothing to do now.
Just the dark. Let your breathing do the rest. Let each breath be a little smaller than the last.
Not being in the mood is a normal starting point.
That is the end of the story. Sleep is the next part, and it does not need instructions.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for sea, still.
If this story does not settle you, try A lighthouse at the end of a long day — a slow story for the end of the day, when you need something unremarkable — for a racing mind, Sleep story: a kitchen late at night, before you go back to something hard — for the hours after a late shift or Sleep story: a boat at anchor, when you are waiting for something — for an overtired night.