Sleep story · travel, anonymous
Sleep story: a hotel room somewhere, if you are fitting this around other people — for an overtired night
A room you did not choose, in a city you do not have to know.
Reading it yourself. Back to the audio version.
There is a small card on the desk with the breakfast times on it, which do not matter tonight. The room is on the fourth floor, and the window looks out onto a street with one lit shop. The air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute.
A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it. The curtains are heavy and close properly, which is rarer than it should be. The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on.
Let your forehead go cool and smooth. Your chest can be still now.
Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up.
The bathroom light is off, and the fan has finally stopped. The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound.
Feel your wrists loosen. Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be.
Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine.
There is a bottle of water on the bedside table with the cap already loosened. Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful.
Notice your hips, wide and settled. Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth.
Your case is open on the luggage rack, half unpacked. The pillow is slightly too soft, and you fold it in half, which fixes it.
Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.
Notice any tension that arrived while you weren't looking. If you're counting the minutes, that's fine. Count them and come back.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs.
Let the breath be the only thing you are doing. Let it all get further away.
Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet. The words can start to blur now. Softer.
They will find their own way out. You do not have to count them. Let them.
It is designed to fit around other people’s schedules.
The end. Sleep well.