Sleep story: a hotel room somewhere, when you are

The story, in full

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. There is a small card on the desk with the breakfast times on it, which do not matter tonight.

There is a bottle of water on the bedside table with the cap already loosened. The air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute. The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound.

Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs. Let your palms open if they were closed.

Let your thumbs rest where they landed. Let your toes stop holding on to anything.

Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful. The bathroom light is off, and the fan has finally stopped.

Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you. Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be.

If you're counting the minutes, that's fine. Count them and come back. If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background.

Let your lower back sink down into the mattress. Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other.

Let the quiet be boring. Slower.

Let the sound of this go soft at the edges. Let it all get further away. Stay.

Pick this one when you are short on time.

That is the end of the story. Sleep is the next part, and it does not need instructions.

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