Sleep story · cozy, rain
An attic room — a slow story for the end of the day, when nothing else has worked today — for a restless 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
The roof is holding, and the rain is outside, and that is the whole arrangement. The air up here is warmer than downstairs and smells of old wood. The bed is pushed into the low corner, which makes it feel like a den.
A carrier bag of shopping is still on the chair, unpacked. The radiator is small and makes a ticking sound as it cools. There is a dormer window with a deep sill, and a mug left on it from last night.
Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Feel your cheeks let go.
Your elbows can stop being hinges for now. Let your forehead go cool and smooth.
The rain changes intensity every few minutes and never quite stops. There is a box of things under the eaves that nobody has opened in years.
Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it. Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed.
Let the mattress take all of it. Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them.
The rain on the roof tiles is much closer and louder up here than anywhere else in the house. The floorboards are bare and slightly uneven, and one of them always creaks.
If your body wants to move, let it move, then come back. Notice any tension that arrived while you weren't looking.
Let your palms open if they were closed. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.
Slower. Stay with the weight of your body.
Slower now. Sleep. You do not have to count them.
Nothing else has worked today. That is not a reason to skip this.
I will stop here. The quiet will carry on without the words.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for cozy, rain.
If this story does not settle you, try Sleep story: a field under snow, when you feel fine and want to stay that way — for waking too early, A fire dying down — a slow story for the end of the day, when you have just finished work — for an overtired night or A lake before dawn, when you are on your own — for a restless night.