Sleep story · warm, winter
Sleep story: a fire dying down, if you have done this a hundred times — for an overtired night
The last hour of a fire, when it stops being a fire and becomes warmth.
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 heat reaches about a metre from the fire and stops. The logs beside the fireplace are down to the last two. The ash in the grate is deep and soft and grey at the edges.
There is a smell of woodsmoke in the room that will still be there tomorrow. The room has gone darker than you noticed, and the light is all low and orange. The window is black, and the glass is cold if you touch it.
Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs. Let your toes stop holding on to anything.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed.
The fire will be out in half an hour and nobody needs to watch it happen. The dog is asleep on the rug, on the side nearest the heat.
Let your calves spread out and flatten. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.
Let your forearms get heavy and warm. Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth.
Somewhere in the house, a door closes and everything goes quiet again. Every few minutes a piece of wood falls in on itself with a small collapse of sparks.
Notice any urge to check something. You can wait two more minutes. You might be planning something. Notice the planning, then come back.
Notice how much of you has already stopped moving. Let your forehead go cool and smooth.
Let them. Just the weight.
Let the thoughts come and go without you getting up to answer. You can stop listening properly. Sleep.
If you have done this a hundred times, change one small thing tonight.
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 warm, winter.
If this story does not settle you, try Sleep story: a lighthouse at the end of a long day, when you are somewhere unfamiliar — for a racing mind, Sleep story: a hotel room somewhere, when you have just finished work — for a night when you do not want to think or Sleep story: a fire dying down, when you feel restless rather than tired — for waking too early.