You just got The home.
sun is And up.
everyone else is starting their You day.
worked while they slept.
Now it's your turn.
Put your phone on do not disturb.
The people who need you know your hours.
Pull the blackout curtains tight.
Tuck the edges in, if light leaks through.
If you have an eye mask...
slide it on now.
Let it rest soft across your eyes.
Get under the covers.
Let the fan run.
That steady hum is all you need.
A lawn mower might start up outside.
A delivery truck might idle.
That's the day, going on without you.
Let the fan sound cover it.
For the next six minutes...
this room is night.
Whatever the clock says.
Part of you might still be at work.
Listening for the next call.
Maybe you drove home squinting.
Sunglasses on at seven in the morning.
Everyone else heading the other way.
Let's clock out for real.
One last time.
Picture the badge reader by the door.
Or whatever you tap on your way out.
Tap out.
Hear the little beep.
The shift is over.
Somebody else has it now.
Picture handing off your notes.
To the next person coming in.
Fresh coffee in their hand.
Whatever you watched over all night...
it's in their hands now.
They've got it.
You can let go.
Your feet were busy for hours.
Let them go heavy now.
Your eyes worked under bright lights.
Let them rest in the dark.
Your lower back stood a long time.
Let the mattress hold it now.
And your Maybe jaw.
you've been clenching it since Let midnight.
it hang Breathe loose.
in slowly...
And out...
all the way down.
Now let's turn this day into night.
Together.
We'll count down slow breaths.
From twenty.
The sky outside gets darker with each one.
You don't have to keep track.
I'll count.
You just breathe.
If you lose the numbers, that's fine.
Just watch the sky change.
Twenty.
Bright noon sky.
Nineteen.
A little softer.
Eighteen.
Seventeen.
The light is getting lower.
Sixteen.
Long shadows across the yard.
Fifteen.
Fourteen.
The sun is going gold.
Thirteen.
Kids get called in for dinner.
Twelve.
Eleven.
The sky is turning orange...
then pink.
Ten.
Dusk.
streetlights blink on.
Nine.
Eight.
Deep blue Seven.
now.
The first star.
Six.
Five.
The neighborhood goes Four.
quiet.
Porch lights click off.
Three.
The moon is up over the rooftops.
Two.
Full dark.
One.
It's night.
Night has come.
For you, at least.
Just the fan now.
Steady.
Never stopping.
If a sound slips through...
a car door, a dog down the street...
let the fan take it.
It's not your business right now.
Your only job is rest.
Your body knows how to sleep.
Even at this hour.
Out there it's bright.
In here it's dark and cool.
That's the only part that matters.
Breathing in...
And out...
Rest as long as you need.
The day can run without you.
Sleep well.
Goodnight...
whatever time it is.