Sleep story · travel, anonymous
Sleep story: a hotel room somewhere, if you are fitting this around other people — for waking too early
A room you did not choose, in a city you do not have to know.
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 room is on the fourth floor, and the window looks out onto a street with one lit shop. A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it. Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful.
The air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute. The curtains are heavy and close properly, which is rarer than it should be. The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound.
Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them.
Your fingers can stop doing anything at all. Let your forehead go cool and smooth.
There is a small card on the desk with the breakfast times on it, which do not matter tonight. The bathroom light is off, and the fan has finally stopped.
Let your lower back sink down into the mattress. Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy.
Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be. Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed.
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 forearms get heavy and warm. Your ankles can go loose now.
There is a bottle of water on the bedside table with the cap already loosened. The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on.
Let your ribs stop working so hard. Your chest can be still now.
If you're distracted by a sound, let the sound be the object for a moment. If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background.
Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed. Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away.
Let each breath be a little smaller than the last. Almost nothing to do now.
They will find their own way out. Leave it there. Nothing here needs following closely.
Let the quiet be boring. Slower now. Let them.
It is designed to fit around other people’s schedules.
There is nothing more to follow. Let the rest happen on its own.
18 paragraphs, roughly 3 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, anonymous.
If this story does not settle you, try A lake before dawn (a sleep story), when you need something unremarkable — for jet lag, A lake before dawn (a sleep story), when you need something unremarkable — for a restless night or A library at closing time — a slow story for the end of the day, when you want to be left alone — for jet lag.