Sleep story · quiet, home
The house after everyone is asleep (a sleep story), when you have been meaning to start — for the hours after a late shift
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 floorboards have stopped creaking because nobody is walking on them. There is a chair by the window that nobody sits in during the day. The radiator clicks once as it cools down.
Outside, a car goes past and its headlights sweep across the ceiling, then are gone. The fridge hums on and off in the kitchen, and that is the loudest thing in the building. There is nothing left on the list for today.
Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.
Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away. Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head.
The clock in the hallway ticks slightly behind the one in the kitchen. Everything in the room is exactly where it was left.
Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it. Feel your wrists loosen.
If you're replaying a conversation, let it play. It'll finish on its own. Notice the pull to make this mean something. It doesn't have to.
Let your calves spread out and flatten. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.
Just the weight. Nothing needs deciding tonight.
Let the next part go past without you. Let the dark be ordinary. Let the breath be the only thing you are doing.
You have been meaning to start. This is the least intimidating way in.
Let everything get quiet, including this.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for quiet, home.