Milo was not sleepy. He had told Mum twice, told his bear three times, and told the moon through the window just in case nobody was listening.
The moon blinked a silver blink. A small piece of paper floated down and landed on Milo’s pillow. At the top it said: MOONLIGHT CHECKLIST. Underneath were four empty circles.
The first circle said, Wash away the day. Milo padded to the bathroom, brushed each tooth he could reach, and splashed warm water over his cheeks. When he returned, the first circle glowed like a pearl.
The second said, Tuck tomorrow somewhere safe. Milo placed his red truck beside the bed. ‘Tomorrow, we will build the tallest road,’ he whispered. The second circle began to shine.
The third said, Find three quiet things. Milo heard the hum of the house, the soft scratch of Bear’s ear against the pillow, and his own slow breath. A third silver light appeared.
The last circle said, Let your body grow heavy. Milo started with his toes. Heavy toes. Heavy knees. Heavy hands. By the time he reached his eyelids, he could not remember why he had been so sure he was awake.
The moon folded the checklist into a beam of light and tucked it under Milo’s blanket. ‘You did not have to chase sleep,’ it seemed to say. ‘You only had to make it a place to land.’
In the morning, the paper was gone. But that night Milo knew exactly what to do: wash away the day, tuck tomorrow somewhere safe, find three quiet things, and let sleep come to him.