Sleep story · quiet, home
The house after everyone is asleep (a sleep story), when you have been putting it off — for a racing mind
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 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. Everything in the room is exactly where it was left.
The lamp beside you is the only light left on in the whole house. The clock in the hallway ticks slightly behind the one in the kitchen. There is nothing left on the list for today.
Let your shoulder blades spread out and drop. Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be.
Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth. Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part.
The fridge hums on and off in the kitchen, and that is the loudest thing in the building. The floorboards have stopped creaking because nobody is walking on them.
Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress. Let your thumbs rest where they landed.
If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background. Notice the exact moment your attention left. You probably won't catch it. That's normal.
Notice your hips, wide and settled. Let your calves spread out and flatten.
Stay. Let your breathing do the rest.
Let it all get further away. Just the dark. Let the thoughts come and go without you getting up to answer.
You have been putting this off. Starting is the only step that matters.
The end. Sleep well.
12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for quiet, home.