Sleep story · sea, still

Sleep story: a lighthouse at the end of a long day, when the weather has kept you inside — for jet lag

One light turning, a kettle, and weather you are on the right side of.

Lights off. Press begin and let the story read itself to you, at the pace of sleep.

Read it myself

Screen on or off — we suggest dimming it, or simply closing your eyes after the first paragraph.

The story, in full

The lighthouse will keep turning whether you watch it or not. The tea in your hands is too hot to drink and you are just holding it. Your coat is on the hook by the door, still wet at the shoulders.

Below, the sea is doing what it does at night, which is mostly nothing. The room at the top is small, round and warm, with a kettle on a ring. There is a chair pulled up to the window that fits exactly one person.

Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Let the mattress take all of it.

Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed. Feel your wrists loosen.

The window is thick and slightly green at the edges. The wind is doing a low, steady thing against the glass.

Let your palms open if they were closed. Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head.

Notice if you've been frowning at your own thoughts. Notice any tension that arrived while you weren't looking.

Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.

Let the breath be the only thing you are doing. Almost nothing to do now.

Sleep. Stay. Let the next part go past without you.

Bad weather is a decent excuse to stay in and do this.

The room is dark, the day is finished, and nothing is required of you.

12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for sea, still.