Sleep story: a kitchen late at night, when the house is busy — for an overtired night

The tiles under your feet are cold in one corner and warm in another. The tea towel is folded over the rail, still slightly damp. Through the window you can see the back garden, which is doing nothing at all.

Your chair is pulled out slightly, the way you left it. Someone upstairs turns over, and the ceiling creaks once. There is a bowl of fruit nobody has touched since Tuesday.

Feel your cheeks let go. Notice your hips, wide and settled.

Let your lower back sink down into the mattress. Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up.

A plate dries on the rack with a slow drip every so often. The fridge motor stops, and the room gets even quieter.

Let your toes stop holding on to anything. Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head.

You might be planning something. Notice the planning, then come back. If you're thinking about the next thing on your list, that list will still be there.

Let the back of your neck lengthen out. Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away.

Let the next part go past without you. Softer.

You do not have to count them. Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet. Sleep.

It works with other people in the house. You do not need silence.

No more sentences. Just the weight of you in the bed.