Fall asleep fast with this cozy bedtime story for grown-ups featuring a romantic stroll through the moonlit streets of Paris and a peaceful loft retreat.
You're listening to Midnight Rain in Paris,
A reimagined sleep story in the Short Drift sleep series,
Designed for when you desire a shorter tale to end the day.
Wander along the glowing banks of the Seine and across the city's ancient stone bridges as a rainstorm arrives.
Connect with a loved one to enjoy all the romance this historic city has to offer.
This bedtime journey is dedicated to your absolute comfort and to the feeling of being cherished.
So snuggle into your blankets and prepare for the soothing rhythm of raindrops on a glass skylight.
As you are lulled into a deep,
Peaceful sleep,
It's time to dream away.
Welcome to Michelle's Sanctuary.
I am Michelle,
Your guide to relaxation and your trusted ally at the end of the day.
I meet you here,
On the edge of sleep,
To help you quiet the noise of the world and your thoughts as you reclaim your peace.
You deserve this time to prioritize your well-being,
And at any point,
You may allow my voice to fade as you drift into a deep,
Restorative slumber.
Find a position of total stillness as you celebrate making it through another day.
We're going to take a few deep breaths as I count you down,
Letting the beauty of Paris and the rain wash over you.
Take a slow,
Deep breath in,
Imagining the scent of rain hitting warm cobblestones and climbing roses in full bloom.
As you exhale with a long,
Heavy sigh,
Feel the tension in your jaw and face soften,
As fluid as Monet's brushstrokes of paint against a canvas.
4.
Inhale slowly and deeply,
Drawing in the quiet,
Humid air of a Parisian evening.
As you exhale,
Feel your shoulders drop and the weight of the day slide away,
Like rain trickling down the antique glass of French doors.
3.
Draw in another full breath,
Letting the romantic hope of the city settle in your chest and heart center.
As you exhale in a sigh,
Relaxation flows down your arms and into your hands,
As if you are releasing a silk scarf into the breeze.
2.
Inhale deeply,
Taking in the steady,
Yet timeless pulse of the city after dark.
As you sigh it out,
Feel your spine and legs sink into the support beneath you,
Grounded like the ancient stones of the river.
1.
Enjoy your last,
Deep,
Conscious inhalation.
2.
Expand and claim this moment for you,
And let it all go in a final,
Peaceful sigh,
Now fully present,
Relaxed,
And ready for the story to unfold.
3.
The night is warm and humid as you walk along the wet cobblestones of a secluded Parisian street.
The city still teems with life well after the hour of midnight.
The air is thick with the scent of freshly baked pastries,
Bread,
And the rich,
Briny minerality of the Seine River.
Antique street lamps cast a soft,
Golden glow over the sidewalks,
Reflecting in the puddles in ethereal,
Metallic bands.
In the near distance,
The melancholic,
Reverberating notes of a lone saxophone player drift through the air,
The melody weaving through the narrow alleys and wrapping around you like a familiar song.
There is an ease in the way you move as you approach a stone bridge where a special companion waits for you.
Perhaps it is a love you know well,
Or one you have dreamed about often,
And yet to meet until now.
As your eyes meet,
Something settles instantly,
A quiet sense of belonging,
As though you have arrived exactly where you are meant to be.
You casually lock arms and walk together past the silent,
Dark towers of Notre Dame.
The moonlight ripples across the water,
And the only sound is its gentle slap against the hulls of boats and the soft melodies of jazz spilling out from an after-hours café,
Echoing off the glistening stone façade.
The atmosphere is one of reflections and midnight wonders.
The sky is momentarily clear,
But the intermission from the rain won't last for long.
You pass by an artist,
Tucked under the blue awning of a closed shop,
Capturing the reflections in the puddles that double the beauty of the city lights.
The night is his time.
A shared smile lingers between you,
Warm and unspoken.
The city seems to shape itself around this moment,
Holding it gently in place.
You continue along the Seine,
As a cooler air moves across the water,
Whispering that the storm is drawing near.
The sky shifts into a deep,
Smoky purple as heavy clouds roll in,
Blotting out the faded stars.
You are led to a dock,
Where a small,
Private boat awaits.
You carefully board,
And your companion wraps a soft blanket around your shoulders and then their own.
As you settle in the seat,
Breathing in the cooling air,
The captain smiles and adjusts his beret before the boat takes off into the water.
Moving slowly,
The vessel rocks you to and fro,
The waves pulsing like the city's heart.
You look up at the moon and stars one last time before the clouds cover them completely.
Something about this moment feels quietly complete.
A gentle awareness of being fully present.
The lights of the Eiffel Tower come into view,
Sparkling and inspiring a soft sense of wonder that allows any self-consciousness or any constant thoughts to dissolve into the late night mist.
The boat is brought to a dock and as the final light show of the night begins,
A nostalgic song plays from the roof of a houseboat.
Back on the riverbank,
Almost without thinking,
Your steps begin to sway gently with the music and you and your companion dance,
Wordlessly,
Led by the song.
The moment unfolds effortlessly,
Like a dream you don't need to guide.
The first big cool drops of rain begin to fall,
Tasting metallic and slightly salty as they slide down your lips.
You shelter under a shared,
Oversized umbrella,
Laughing without a reason needed as you are caught in the beauty of the storm.
You walk through the rain together,
Light and unhurried,
Skirting around the puddles,
Carried by the rhythm of the moment.
You come upon a quiet residential street where a row house with a scarlet door awaits.
Your companion bids you adieu,
Leaving behind a quiet sense of being cared for and at ease.
You grasp the antique key and enter the foyer,
Meeting the wooden stairs that wind upward.
You grasp the cool wrought iron lattice railing as you ascend,
Your hand sliding up the smooth metal as you climb toward the top floor.
You count each step,
Feeling more and more tired with each winding flight.
You move past the third,
Fourth,
And fifth floors until you reach your sixth floor loft.
You remove your shoes at the mat that wreathes the avenue,
Feeling the soft weight of exhaustion settling into your bones.
You place your umbrella in a brass stand.
Your skin is still tingling from the rain and you inhale the scent of this home.
A welcoming blend of cedar,
Cinnamon,
And old wood.
The high ceilings of the loft angle downward,
Punctuated by large glass skylights where you get lost in the visual of raindrops falling.
You dry yourself and then step into the ensuite,
Taking a short shower,
The warmth seeping into your bones.
The luxurious French soap,
Sold at a nearby market,
Perfumes the air,
Smooths your skin.
Once done,
You dry yourself with a thick folded towel taken from a wicker basket.
You slip into soft,
Monogrammed silk pajamas,
And your muscles soften more with each step,
Releasing their grip as you float through the sanctuary of deep,
Velvety blues and warm lighting.
You pull back the crisp white sheets of the antique bed and sink into the firm,
Supportive mattress.
From your plush pillows,
You watch the lightning illuminate the sky through the skylights,
Followed by the comforting low rumble of thunder that sounds like the earth itself is settling down for sleep.
The fragrant scent of French lavender meets you with every inhalation,
Bringing soft impressions of summer fields in a gentle breeze.
Every pitter and patter of the rain draws you deeper and deeper down,
Leaving you to wonder if all that has transpired is nothing more than a dream.
But you feel the warmth in your heart center,
A wave of love,
Of feeling valued and appreciated,
Most of all by yourself,
As your thoughts begin to blur into soft,
Abstract shapes.
There is only the rain,
Your delicate,
Sleepy breath,
The steady rhythm above you,
The warmth of the blankets.
Nothing to hold,
Nowhere to go,
Yet just the stillness as you drift into the deep,
Dark blue of this Parisian night.
There's a soft sense of ease that lingers,
Something gentle to carry into the morning.
But for now,
There is only rest,
Finding serenity,
Finding contentment,
Finding sleep.
