Sleep story · quiet, home
Sleep story: the house after everyone is asleep, when you want something simple — 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
Everything in the room is exactly where it was left. The radiator clicks once as it cools down. The curtains are not quite closed, and there is a thin line of streetlight along the wall.
Outside, a car goes past and its headlights sweep across the ceiling, then are gone. Everyone went to bed an hour ago, and the house has stopped making the sounds it makes during the day. There is nothing left on the list for today.
Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Let the mattress take all of it.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Your elbows can stop being hinges for now.
A glass of water sits on the table, half finished. The fridge hums on and off in the kitchen, and that is the loudest thing in the building.
Notice your hips, wide and settled. Your chest can be still now.
Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed. Let your shoulder blades spread out and drop.
The clock in the hallway ticks slightly behind the one in the kitchen. The floorboards have stopped creaking because nobody is walking on them.
Notice any part of you that wants this to be over. If you're bored, stay with the boredom for a moment. It's usually thinner than it looks.
Let the back of your neck lengthen out. Your ankles can go loose now.
Just the breath. They will find their own way out.
Let your breathing do the rest. The words can start to blur now. Let them.
Simple is the point. There is no advanced version to graduate to.
Let the words go now, and take the quiet with you.
14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for quiet, home.