Sleep story · warm, home
Sleep story: a kitchen late at night, if you are doing this instead of scrolling — for a night when you do not want to think
One small light on, a cooling cup of tea, and the rest of the house dark.
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
There is no reason to be awake, and no reason to move either. The clock on the oven shows a time that feels later than it is. There is a bowl of fruit nobody has touched since Tuesday.
The kitchen is warm, and the small light over the hob is the only one on. A plate dries on the rack with a slow drip every so often. The tiles under your feet are cold in one corner and warm in another.
Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed.
Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be. Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other.
Someone upstairs turns over, and the ceiling creaks once. Your chair is pulled out slightly, the way you left it.
Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine.
Notice if your attention is in the future. Bring it back to the room. If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Let your shoulder blades spread out and drop.
They will find their own way out. Almost nothing to do now.
Softer. Let the room get slightly further away. Let the breath be the only thing you are doing.
Choosing this over scrolling counts as a good decision, even a small one.
No more sentences. Just the weight of you in the bed.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for warm, home.
If this story does not settle you, try A lighthouse at the end of a long day, when you are not in the mood — for a restless night, Sleep story: a library at closing time, when you have woken up too early — for a racing mind or The house after everyone is asleep — a slow story for the end of the day, after a difficult conversation — for a night when you do not want to think.