Sleep story · travel, anonymous
Sleep story: a hotel room somewhere, when you feel restless rather than tired — for a restless night
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. The air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute. The pillow is slightly too soft, and you fold it in half, which fixes it.
The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound. Your case is open on the luggage rack, half unpacked. There is a small card on the desk with the breakfast times on it, which do not matter tonight.
Feel the weight of your head on the pillow. Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine.
Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Feel your wrists loosen.
A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it. The bathroom light is off, and the fan has finally stopped.
Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it. Let your toes stop holding on to anything.
Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you. Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed.
There is a bottle of water on the bedside table with the cap already loosened. The curtains are heavy and close properly, which is rarer than it should be.
Notice how much of you has already stopped moving. Let your forearms get heavy and warm.
The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on. Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful.
Notice your hips, wide and settled. Let the mattress take all of it.
Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful. The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound.
Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed. Let your calves spread out and flatten.
The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on. The air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute.
Notice any urge to check something. You can wait two more minutes. If a worry shows up, name it quietly and let it sit beside you.
Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them. Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out.
Slower. Stay with the weight of your body.
Just the breath. Let them. Let it all get further away.
Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet. Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself. Let the room get slightly further away.
Restless is different from tired, and it needs a different approach.
No more sentences. Just the weight of you in the bed.
21 paragraphs, roughly 4 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, anonymous.
If this story does not settle you, try The house after everyone is asleep (a sleep story), when you have been putting it off — for a racing mind, The night train (a sleep story), when you are cold and want to be warm — for a restless night or A library at closing time (a sleep story), when you are not in the mood — for a racing mind.