Sleep story · quiet, home

The house after everyone is asleep — a slow story for the end of the day, when you are waiting for something — for a night when you do not want to think

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.

Read it myself

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

The story, in full

There is nothing left on the list for today. A glass of water sits on the table, half finished. 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. The curtains are not quite closed, and there is a thin line of streetlight along the wall. Everything in the room is exactly where it was left.

Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be. Notice your hips, wide and settled.

Your elbows can stop being hinges for now. Let your shoulder blades spread out and drop.

Everyone went to bed an hour ago, and the house has stopped making the sounds it makes during the day. The radiator clicks once as it cools down.

Let your forearms get heavy and warm. Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it.

If you're sleepy, sit up a little. Or let the sleepiness be there. If you feel restless, that's a feeling, not a failure.

Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be. Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you.

Slower. Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself.

Softer. Let the room get slightly further away. Just the weight.

Waiting is dead time you can spend on this instead.

Let this be the last thing you listen to.

12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for quiet, home.