Sleep story · warm, home
Sleep story: a kitchen late at night, when your attention is scattered — for a restless night
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 a cup of tea beside you that has gone past drinking temperature. The tiles under your feet are cold in one corner and warm in another. Your chair is pulled out slightly, the way you left it.
There is a bowl of fruit nobody has touched since Tuesday. 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.
Let your lower back sink down into the mattress. Notice how much of you has already stopped moving.
Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth. Your elbows can stop being hinges for now.
Through the window you can see the back garden, which is doing nothing at all. The kitchen is warm, and the small light over the hob is the only one on.
Your fingers can stop doing anything at all. Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy.
Someone upstairs turns over, and the ceiling creaks once. A plate dries on the rack with a slow drip every so often.
If you feel numb, that's a valid thing to feel. Nothing to fix. Notice anything you're holding onto from earlier today.
Feel your cheeks let go. Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away.
Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself. Almost nothing to do now.
Slower now. Softer. The words can start to blur now.
Scattered attention is the raw material, not an obstacle.
No more sentences. Just the weight of you in the bed.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for warm, home.
If this story does not settle you, try The house after everyone is asleep — a slow story for the end of the day, before something difficult — for a restless night, A lake before dawn (a sleep story), if you are doing this in the middle of the day — for the hours after a late shift or A boat at anchor, when you have tried everything else — for jet lag.