Sleep story · cozy, rain
An attic room (a sleep story), if you have done this a hundred times — for an overtired night
Sloping ceiling, rain on the roof a foot above your head.
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
A carrier bag of shopping is still on the chair, unpacked. The rain on the roof tiles is much closer and louder up here than anywhere else in the house. The radiator is small and makes a ticking sound as it cools.
The rain changes intensity every few minutes and never quite stops. There is a dormer window with a deep sill, and a mug left on it from last night. The roof is holding, and the rain is outside, and that is the whole arrangement.
Your fingers can stop doing anything at all. Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine.
Feel your wrists loosen. Let your thumbs rest where they landed.
The lamp is on the floor beside the bed because there is no room for a table. The floorboards are bare and slightly uneven, and one of them always creaks.
Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed. Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy.
Notice the exact moment your attention left. You probably won't catch it. That's normal. You might be planning something. Notice the planning, then come back.
Feel your cheeks let go. Let your ribs stop working so hard.
Let each breath be a little smaller than the last. Just the weight.
Stay. Slower now. Let the sound of this go soft at the edges.
If you have done this a hundred times, change one small thing tonight.
Let this be the last thing you listen to.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for cozy, rain.
If this story does not settle you, try The night train (a sleep story), when you are cold and want to be warm — for a restless night, A field under snow (a sleep story), if you are fitting this around other people — for a restless night or A lake before dawn, when you are on your own — for a restless night.