The Dinosaur Who Could Not Sleep: a free five-minute bedtime story about a little dinosaur who can't sleep

Long, long ago, in a green valley full of ferns, there lived a little dinosaur called Dash. Dash was small for a dinosaur, about the size of a pony, with a long tail, stubby arms, and feet that were always, always moving. All day Dash ran. He ran races with the lizards. He ran laps around the big grey rock. He ran to the river and back just to see how fast he could do it. And when the sun went down and the valley turned gold, then purple, then blue, Dash was still running. "Dash," called his mother from the warm nest of leaves. "Bedtime, little one." Dash lay down. He curled his tail. He closed his eyes. Then one foot started to tap. Then the other. Then his tail began to swish. "I can't sleep," said Dash. "I still have running inside me." His mother thought for a moment. "Go and ask the Old Tree," she said. "The Old Tree has watched a thousand dinosaurs fall asleep. Walk there, though. Don't run." So Dash walked. It felt strange, going slowly. He noticed things he had never noticed while running. The ferns were damp and smelled sweet. The ground was soft under his feet. Somewhere, a frog was singing one low note, over and over. The Old Tree stood at the edge of the valley, taller than anything, with branches that reached all the way up to the stars. "Old Tree," said Dash, "I can't sleep. I still have running inside me." The Old Tree rustled its leaves, slowly, the way old trees do. "Do you see the big dinosaurs?" it asked. Dash looked across the valley. There they were: the great long-necked ones, standing in the moonlight, as still as hills. "They ran all day too, when they were small," said the Old Tree. "Now watch what they do." Dash watched. The big dinosaurs were breathing. That was all. In, slowly, and the moonlight rose on their backs. Out, slowly, and it sank. In. Out. Like the sea. "They let the running drain out through their feet," said the Old Tree. "Into the ground. The ground likes it. Try." Dash planted his feet in the cool earth. He breathed in, slowly, like a big dinosaur. He breathed out, slowly, like a hill. He felt something trickle out through his toes. A little bit of running. Then a little more. The ground drank it up and did not mind at all. "Thank you," whispered Dash. His voice had gone soft. He walked home, slowly, slowly, past the singing frog and the sweet-smelling ferns. His feet felt heavy now, in a nice way, like they belonged to him again. He climbed into the warm nest of leaves. His mother tucked her tail around him. "Did you find out how the big ones rest?" she asked. But Dash did not answer. One foot gave a last tiny tap, and was still. Across the valley, the big dinosaurs breathed in and out under the moon, and the Old Tree rustled its leaves, and the little dinosaur who could not sleep was fast asleep.

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The Dinosaur Who Could Not Sleep

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