Sleep story · cozy, rain
An attic room (a sleep story), if you have done this a hundred times — for waking too early
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
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. A carrier bag of shopping is still on the chair, unpacked.
The rain changes intensity every few minutes and never quite stops. The bed is pushed into the low corner, which makes it feel like a den. The lamp is on the floor beside the bed because there is no room for a table.
Feel the weight of your head on the pillow. Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy.
Let your forearms get heavy and warm. Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head.
There is a box of things under the eaves that nobody has opened in years. The roof is holding, and the rain is outside, and that is the whole arrangement.
Let your calves spread out and flatten. Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it.
Notice any urge to check something. You can wait two more minutes. If you're thinking about the next thing on your list, that list will still be there.
Let the back of your neck lengthen out. Your elbows can stop being hinges for now.
Let your breathing do the rest. Let the room get slightly further away.
Nothing here needs following closely. Leave it there. Stay.
If you have done this a hundred times, change one small thing tonight.
Let the words go now, and take the quiet with you.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for cozy, rain.
If this story does not settle you, try A boat at anchor — a slow story for the end of the day, when you have been putting it off — for a restless night, A boat at anchor (a sleep story), when you want something simple — for an overtired night or A boat at anchor, when you want to be left alone — for a restless night.