Sleep story · quiet, home
Sleep story: the house after everyone is asleep, if you are doing this in the middle of the day — for jet lag
The hour when the house belongs to nobody and nothing needs doing.
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 clock in the hallway ticks slightly behind the one in the kitchen. The radiator clicks once as it cools down. The lamp beside you is the only light left on in the whole house.
Everything in the room is exactly where it was left. Outside, a car goes past and its headlights sweep across the ceiling, then are gone. The floorboards have stopped creaking because nobody is walking on them.
Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be. Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow.
Let your lower back sink down into the mattress. Notice how much of you has already stopped moving.
Everyone went to bed an hour ago, and the house has stopped making the sounds it makes during the day. The fridge hums on and off in the kitchen, and that is the loudest thing in the building.
Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine. Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out.
Notice if your attention is in the future. Bring it back to the room. You might be planning something. Notice the planning, then come back.
Let your ribs stop working so hard. Let your thumbs rest where they landed.
Let them. Sleep.
Just the dark. Let the sound of this go soft at the edges. Let the next part go past without you.
Midday is an underrated time for this.
There is nothing more to follow. Let the rest happen on its own.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for quiet, home.
If this story does not settle you, try A library at closing time (a sleep story), when your attention is scattered — for jet lag, Sleep story: a lighthouse at the end of a long day, when you want to be left alone — for jet lag or A lake before dawn — a slow story for the end of the day, before you go back to something hard — for a restless night.