Sleep story · quiet, books
Sleep story: a library at closing time, when you are at home and cannot settle — for a night when you do not want to think
The last hour, when the lights go down row by row.
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 windows are dark enough now to reflect the room back at you. The library closed twenty minutes ago, and the staff are working along the far shelves, switching off sections. The clock above the door is the old kind, with a second hand that moves in small jumps.
The air smells of paper, dust and floor polish. There is a trolley of returned books beside the desk, waiting to be put back. Your own book is heavy in your hands, and you have stopped reading it.
Notice your hips, wide and settled. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.
Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress. Your chest can be still now.
The carpet has flattened every sound in the building down to nothing. Someone is pushing a trolley two rows away, and you can hear each wheel separately.
Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be.
You might be planning something. Notice the planning, then come back. Notice any part of you that wants this to be over.
Let your calves spread out and flatten. Let the mattress take all of it.
Stay. Let the quiet be boring.
Nothing needs deciding tonight. You do not have to count them. Stay with the weight of your body.
Being at home and unable to settle is a very specific problem.
Let the words go now, and take the quiet with you.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for quiet, books.