Sleep story: a hotel room somewhere, before something difficult — for winding down

The story, in full

The air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute. The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on. A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it.

The room is on the fourth floor, and the window looks out onto a street with one lit shop. The curtains are heavy and close properly, which is rarer than it should be. Your case is open on the luggage rack, half unpacked.

Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.

Let your forehead go cool and smooth. Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs.

There is a small card on the desk with the breakfast times on it, which do not matter tonight. Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful.

Notice how much of you has already stopped moving. Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head.

Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth. Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress.

The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound. There is a bottle of water on the bedside table with the cap already loosened.

You might be planning something. Notice the planning, then come back. If you're distracted by a sound, let the sound be the object for a moment.

Let your palms open if they were closed. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.

Just the breath. Almost nothing to do now.

Let it all get further away. Just the weight. Let the room get slightly further away.

It works best in the hour before something difficult.

Let everything get quiet, including this.

14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, anonymous.