The Record Shop | Guided Sleep Story With Rain Sounds

In a seaside city, a rainstorm persists through the afternoon, you explore the cobblestone streets and arrive at the Melody Lane Record Shop. Rain pelts the windows, and you get lost in the soothing sound of crackling vinyl and musical discoveries. You sink into a velvet armchair in a listening room and drift on a stream of happy feelings and memories enlivened by music. Come closing time, you return to a Victorian house and fall asleep by the fire. It's time to dream away.

Transcript

Fall into a healing,

Blissful sleep with a sleep story for grown-ups.

You're listening to The Record Shop,

A rainy bedtime story set in a cozy shop in a maritime city.

As a coastal rainstorm persists through the afternoon,

You explore the cobblestone streets and arrive at the Melody Lane Record Shop.

Rain streams down the windows and you get lost in the soothing sounds of crackling vinyl and musical discoveries.

You sink into a velvet armchair in a listening room and drift on a stream of happy feelings and memories enlivened by familiar melodies and life-enhancing lyrics.

Come closing time,

You return to a Victorian house where you fall asleep in a bedroom suite by the fire.

It's time to dream away.

I would like to welcome you to Michelle's Sanctuary.

My name is Michelle and as you listen,

Know I am here just for you.

Let my voice become as familiar as that of a long-time friend.

Let me remind you that your needs are of the utmost importance and you deserve a full night of healing sleep.

Everything else can wait.

Right now,

Your comfort is the priority.

You matter and you deserve to have this sacred time just for yourself.

Adapt the details in the story to what feels most comforting for you and at any point,

You are free to let go of my voice and drift to sleep.

Make yourself cozy and comfortable as you wiggle and then settle into your bed.

Everything in this moment comes together to offer you support and ease.

Open your mouth and yawn.

One yawn is merely the beginning of the soothing journey to sleep.

And then sigh and feel free to stretch your arms and legs one last time and then find stillness.

Surrender into your bed.

Inhale slowly,

Expanding your belly as much as you can without pushing too hard.

Let each breath become deeper at the pace that works for you.

And then yawn and sigh.

Imagine the air is cool and misty as it would be in a maritime city.

As a rainstorm moves in,

It carries the faint aroma of the sea and wet stones.

Continue this pattern of breathing twice more on your own as you inhale,

Yawn,

And sigh.

Becoming light and feeling abundant with each inhalation.

Sinking and relaxing deeper with each yawn and sigh.

One more time,

Inhale,

Yawn,

And sigh.

Return your breath to normal when you are ready.

And it will soon take on the gentle flow of someone who is in a deeply relaxed and pleasant state.

And in this state,

Your imagination has no bounds.

It's time for the story to begin.

There was a time not so long ago when thousands of record shops offered a respite for music lovers.

The excitement for new releases would spawn lines outside record stores as hopeful audiophiles waited to receive one of the first copies of an album.

The aspect of scarcity and the inability of finding any recorded song with a quick search on the internet made each discovery precious and special.

Record shops were the gateway to long-forgotten albums where one could eagerly place an order for something rare and count down the weeks or months until it arrived.

Each discovery brought the celebratory feel of a surprise holiday.

The Melody Lane Record Shop is an enduring oasis for those who wish to step back in time.

Nestled at the end of a cozy cobblestone lane,

It has thrived throughout each new era of change.

For the locals,

This wasn't as much of a surprise as the city prided itself on its collective sodata and nostalgia and longing for days gone by.

And in this maritime city,

For so long as the first cottages and Victorian-style homes were built,

Every soul has been welcomed as they came and encouraged to shine their light.

Sometimes referred to as the Peninsula of Hope,

Even the most cynical of minds feel transformed when they cross the city lines and enter this refuge.

For artists and visionaries,

The energy simply feels different here.

Lighter,

Kinder,

Even on the ubiquitous rainy days,

The vibrant pastel hues of low-rise dwellings and historic homes uplift the grayness with colorful hope.

It's so easy to hunker down on rainy days,

But given the predictable climate in this rainy city,

Businesses do their best to inspire people to come outside and embrace the rainy days in their cozy establishments.

The cool,

Briny mist slips beneath a clear bubble umbrella that protects you from the steadily falling rain you taste the sea on your lips as you take in a deep breath your buttery soft boots with thick rubber soles and puffy linings land on the glistening cobblestones.

Puddles form and reflect the lavender,

Raspberry,

Periwinkle,

Kelly green and butter yellow facades of a beauty salon,

Coffee shop,

Knick-knack store,

And diner.

The aromas of freshly shampooed hair,

Rich coffee,

Cinnamon sticks,

And grilled cheese waft out of each dwelling one fragrant note at a time.

Each scent conjures a feeling of comfort and connection to the community around you.

Silvery raindrops splatter onto the puddles creating ripples that swirl the rainbow reflections like tie-dye.

Beneath the umbrella you feel safe and grateful for the visibility it offers as well as protection from the breeze off the sea.

Your bubble umbrella makes exploration easy and enjoyable.

You wear a vintage coat in pristine condition,

Softly worn by time.

A wide belt wraps around your waist in a comforting embrace.

You move through the rain emulating its fluidity with no sense of purpose or destination in mind.

As you arrive at a crosswalk,

You let the lights determine your direction.

You cross the avenue and arrive at Melody Lane.

The charming street is occupied by a jazz club,

A piano bar,

And a small theater.

You walk beneath the historic marquee of the theater that reads the name of a familiar musician.

Beneath the marquee,

A ticket seller sits behind a gold-framed window in the box office and smiles as you pass.

A large poster captures the inside of the theater from the mezzanine celebrating 100 years of operation.

A sea of sapphire velvet seats lead to a black stage that houses a grand piano.

For a moment,

You imagine the queue of patrons attending the first show in the theater at a time long before television and home entertainment.

Their murmurs and laughter echo beneath the marquee,

Rousing warm thoughts of how special the theater has been over time.

Every soul to enter has been touched in some way by the dulcet tones of vocalists and the haunting melodies of musicians.

The lane winds around and leads you to a stone cottage that serves as a music school.

The vibrating sounds of a violin pour out of French windows that open onto the lane.

An older man dressed in a khaki trench coat walks his rain-loving dog.

The animal pauses beneath the school and sniffs at the air while taking in the music.

You smile as you think to yourself that even the pets of the city appreciate the sounds on Melody Lane.

Melody Lane forms a dead end where a blue and red neon sign glows with the logo for the Melody Lane Record Shop.

The M and the L are ostentatiously designed in cursive and larger than the rest of the letters.

The neon light reflects on the slick pavement like a colorful echo that reaches down the street.

The neon sign is the only modern addition to the shop.

All the windows and the facade appear untouched and in their original state.

Water pours out of a white gutter onto the sidewalk,

Cascading with gusto into a growing puddle.

You step beneath the navy blue awning and shake off your umbrella,

Closing it before you enter the shop.

You turn the brass doorknob and open the wooden door.

A bell rings when you enter and close the door behind you.

Sarah,

The fourth generation owner of the store,

Greets you as you enter with her smooth,

Honeyed voice.

Even from her speaking voice,

It is easy to tell that she's a beautiful singer as well.

Her young son sits behind a glass counter that contains autographed music memorabilia,

Deeply concentrating on an album cover.

On rainy days like this,

Sarah understands her shop is a haven from the storm.

She encourages visitors to stay and opens up all the listening rooms that customers rent to settle into velvet armchairs and embark on a musical journey.

Her great-grandfather was a musician who founded the record shop,

Led by the passionate belief that if you do something you love consistently,

Success will follow.

And that success followed with each new generation in the family.

The record shop is dimly lit with Tiffany and Hurricane lamps.

Edison bulb string lights hang from the ceiling and tall candles burn in the windows.

The air is dry and warm.

You hang your coat on the hook of an antique mahogany rack and place your umbrella in a bin.

In some ways,

Entering the record shop feels as if you are entering the parlor of someone's home.

Decades ago,

Signed albums from every era hang on the walls.

Personal letters from artists long gone are paired with photos of them taken in front of the shop and kept in vintage frames.

From Billie Holiday to Dinah Washington,

Sam Cooke to Elvis,

Cher to Dolly Parton,

The Pretenders to Taylor Swift.

When wall is covered with autograph signings,

Your breath catches overcome with inspiration as you think about all the artists and creative minds that once occupied the same homey space where you now stand.

You take in a deep breath and smell the vanilla,

Amber,

And almond notes of record jackets.

Some are many decades old,

And the weathered cardboard sleeves add a sweetness to the air.

Sarah asks your name,

Something she will surely remember,

As she has a photographic memory,

A natural gift passed down from her mother,

To remember the name of every person that steps into the store.

It's one of the reasons she has enjoyed repeat visitors,

And how a word of mouth spread has brought people from around the world to seek out this time capsule of a store.

Is there anything you would like help finding today?

She asks without intending to.

You hesitate in answering,

And she senses exactly what you need.

My granddad always said,

Some of the best discoveries in life come when we're searching for nothing in particular.

Have a look around,

Stay a while,

You smile and thank her,

And find yourself drawn to the rows of albums organized by genre,

And then alphabetically,

Every name you walk by reminds you of something or someone who has been a part of your life.

Even if it's an artist that you don't know well,

The most popular album covers from different eras remind you of someone in your life who connected with its songs.

Even unheard music can serve as an invisible tie to someone you know.

A row of listening stations,

Arranged like old-fashioned telephone booths,

Lie in the back of the shop,

Beneath a candelabra,

While half of them are occupied.

A diverse group of listeners is so lost in the music playing through headphones that they are quiet but for the occasional tapping of a foot or swaying to the music.

The quiet chatter of a young couple travels out of one of the listening rooms.

They read the liner notes taken from an album cover,

So trippy and vibrant that you can see it across the shop.

You thumb through albums,

Perusing covers that depict a desert landscape,

Planet earth surrounded by flowers,

And then a black and white portrait that captures a singer's profile so beautifully it could hang in a museum.

The album covers begin the artistic journey,

And in thinking of the small icons that now represent digital music,

It's hard not to think that we have chosen to shrink beauty in modern times.

And so it is up to us to study the details and let our imagination elevate the magnificence to what it once was.

You begin to gather record albums,

Some old,

Some new.

One contains a song you remember dancing to early on in your life.

Another reminds you of someone you looked up to and hoped to be like.

Another album contains a song that took you through one of the hardest periods of your life and made you feel less alone.

You finger through another row of weathered spines and come upon a record that contains the song that most represents your journey so far.

It embodies the version of you that you hope to be remembered as.

Lost in the artwork on this album cover as the rain trickles down the windows,

You are brought back to the moment by Sarah's young boy.

He sits at your feet and looks up at you mischievously before he begins to tell you all the information about the album in your hand.

Sarah laughs across the shop and comes to gather her son,

Explaining that he has nearly memorized the entire inventory of the shop.

You inquire about a listening room and she smiles,

Waving her hand to lead you through a glass door and then through a beaded curtain.

The room reminds you of your favorite era.

With a plush sofa and velvet armchair,

Colorful albums decorate the jewel-toned silk wallpaper.

Velvet curtains are drawn back,

Held by brass hooks shaped like musical notes.

The windows look out onto Melody Lane as the rain continues to fall.

A turntable sits on a vintage console made of lustrous wood.

Sarah lights two pillar candles that flicker in curved black metal wall sconces.

She flips a switch to turn on an electric fireplace.

The warm glow of the candles and fire pour honeyed light into the listening room,

Offering a warm escape that counters the grayness of the day.

Sarah asks which album you would like to hear and you select the one that evokes the feelings you would most like to feel right now.

She carefully removes the sleeve and then takes the vinyl and places it on the turntable.

Her young son runs into the room just before she lowers the needle and asks you both if he can do it himself.

You both smile and agree and watch as his tiny hands grasp the slender arm.

He gently lifts it,

Prompting the record to spin.

His eyes concentrate intently as the needle drops slowly onto the vinyl and only when the music begins to play does the young boy smile and relax.

Sarah wraps her arm around her son and you thank them both as they step beyond the beaded curtain and leave you to listen.

Some people listen to music as a distraction,

Some as a motivation,

Some to dance,

Some listen to change their mood,

Some listen to remember,

Some listen to forget.

But in this moment,

You listen simply to listen,

Consciously aware of the analog fuzz and soft crackle of vinyl.

You lose yourself in every sound and feeling that comes with each beat.

You settle into the velvet chair and rest your head and back against the tufted chair back.

Rain slips down the window,

Adding to the ambience and sound.

And while sound production has improved over time,

Sometimes perfection and clarity aren't the best for listening.

The fuzz and crackles and pops pops are what warm your heart and cause your body to tingle as goosebumps accompany the listening experience.

The album you have chosen is one that makes you connect to a certain time,

As music often does,

And has the ability to adapt to the person you are today.

The melody and lyrics will continue to evolve around with you,

Their meaning and impact changing throughout a life the way the best music does.

Universal yet fluid,

You float on the sound waves,

Closing your eyes to better concentrate on the pauses between melody lines.

The music the music breathes,

Reminding you to enjoy deep,

Satisfying breaths.

Your heart rate lowers,

And your muscles soften.

Your chest rises and falls in a sigh as the song seems to sigh with you.

You imagine traveling on each sound wave as the music opens a portal to another world.

And in this world,

You are free to be all the things you want to be.

You are free to try on feelings and stories told by an artistic voice that echoes your own.

The experience is euphoric,

Otherworldly,

And a reminder of how amazing life can be when expressed through song.

The music elevates your spirits,

Captivating you through the delicious in-betweens of the many versions of you that have existed throughout the timeline of your life.

Every detail of the songs,

The songs,

From the rhythms to the harmonies,

Makes you feel something new,

Even if subtle,

Throughout your body.

And when one side is done playing,

Your eyes to turn the record,

And this time enjoy the chance to drop the needle onto the groove.

You go to the sofa now,

Floating as if in a dream,

As you lie down and listen to the second half of the songs.

The songs are so care and precision,

You revel in the flow and range of emotions covered by their sequence.

The candles burn down,

And the sky darkens,

And you appreciate the warm glow of the fire even more.

You feel more relaxed and inspired than you have in some time.

You are captivated by the energy of this special room,

This historic shop,

And this mystical city.

You listen to the album one more time,

From beginning to end,

Realizing there are new things you may always notice,

And then there are the parts you long to hear again and again.

They will never grow old,

Nor will the feelings they evoke.

Old world street lamps turn on and cast their golden glow on the reflective cobblestones and pavement.

You rise and remove the record from the player,

And place it in the sleeve and cover.

You then gather the other albums to purchase.

Again,

The sweet vanilla and almond smells of the aged paper fill the air.

You turn off the console and exit the room,

And whenever you listen to these songs again,

You will be reminded of the transformative listening experience you enjoyed in this renowned shop on Melody Lane.

Sarah's son excitedly runs to meet you,

Holding a bag of pretzels in his hands.

In his sweet little voice,

He asks if you would like some of his snack.

You wonder if you will one day return to find the young lad running the shop.

Running the shop,

You walk to the cash register and pay for the albums.

In the listening room,

Sarah places your purchase in a paper bag along with a sticker that reads Melody Lane Record Shop.

You thank her and promise to return one day.

You put on your coat and gather your umbrella and step out into the rainy night.

The rain falls lightly,

And raindrops become prismatic specks in the beacon of light that pours from street lamps.

You wander through the rainy street in a dreamy state,

Still carried by the melodies that repeat in your mind.

You arrive at a street lined with Victorian houses.

Beyond the wraparound porches and through the bow windows,

Flames flicker in stone fireplaces.

As people settle in for the night,

You arrive at a home painted in pastel shades of purple and blue,

Showcasing the many nuances of each color and all shades that exist between them.

You open the picket fence and walk on the slate pathway to the porch,

Ascending the steps.

One by one,

You feel more and more tired.

You leave the wet umbrella on the porch and step into the historic home.

Home,

Removing your coat and shoes,

You take the records out of the bag and fan them out on a stand in the living room so you may admire them.

Come morning,

You go through the motions familiar at the end of most days.

Enjoying a meal and a warm shower,

You change into the softest of pajamas,

All the while the rain patters on the roof and streams down the windows.

And no matter where your thoughts lead you,

The songs of the day are the persistent soundtrack in your mind.

You find yourself humming them every now and then as you start a fire in your bedroom in your bedroom suite.

The crackles and pops of the dry wood remind you of the soothing sounds of vinyl.

You pull back a heavy comforter and silky sheets on a canopy bed and climb atop the thick mattress.

Even as you close your eyes,

The music soothes you,

Playing softly in your mind.

You drift between worlds,

Surrendering to the comforts of the night,

Warmed by the fire,

Lulled by the rain.

You find yourself floating on the waves of sound into the world of sleep,

Letting go,

Sinking deeper and deeper down as you continue to drift,

To drift,

Finding peace,

Finding serenity,

Finding respite,

Finding sleep.

It's time to dream away.

Reviews

Thank you for your lovely stories, Michelle. I am always asleep in no time! I’ve had to replay them over just to be able to hear all the different parts. Just love all your interesting and detailed adventures. Thanks for all you do to bring sweet dreams to so many of us!
💖xx

Finally I , after nights and nights, I have heard most of the story.So wonderful.And thank you for bringing back memories: the excitement of a new record coming out, and go and listen, though the environment wasn’t as luxurious as in your story, and you definitely could not stay and listen over, and over. Lots of good memories have come up now with particular records, “singles” or “LP’s”alike, putting the needle in the groove, and listening over, and over. Or the excitement, when traveling abroad, and being able to find a record that could nowhere be found at home. I can still remember particular records that were my favorites in particular places I lived…So many good memories while awake in bed or during the day. Who knows what I even dreamed about? Thank you, thank you, thank you🙏🏻🌟🦋🌟🙏🏻

This was so soothing and effective that I fell asleep right away.

I actually managed to stay awake to hear this wonderful story that brought back memories of a special part of my life when record shops were popular. I still have my records & a record player. Thank you, Michelle.

Excellent work. Thank you again for another story. You are blessed.

Without Michelle’s amazing stories I would not get to sleep .Simply the best .Love the rain sound and your soothing voice .🙏🧡

💌 the theme of this story. Lots of detail and filled with nostalgia. Thank you for sharing this 🤗

So soothing that once again I will need to ‘relisten’ to hear the whole story.😌thank you and many blessings!🙏

Wonderful always dependable to soothe the busy mind into relaxing sleep🙏🏽

Thank you kindly Michelle for these great bedtime stories! I look forward to hearing them every evening and they work their magic with the aid of your breathing exercises and the soothing sound of your voice! Greatly appreciate you for the gift of sleep! Big hugs 🤗! 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏