A caravan by the sea — a slow story for the end of the day, if you are doing this instead of scrolling — for a restless night

There is a torch by the door in case you need to walk to the toilets in the night. The caravan rocks very slightly in the wind, which is more comforting than it sounds. A clock on the wall ticks with a slight rattle on every second.

There is a gas ring, a kettle, and two cups, one of which is a different pattern. The wind pushes against the side of the caravan in long, slow gusts. The whole caravan smells of salt, gas and clean bedding.

Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you. Let your ribs stop working so hard.

Your chest can be still now. Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them.

You can hear the shingle moving as the waves pull back. The sea is about fifty metres away, over a bank of shingle.

Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be. Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up.

Feel your wrists loosen. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.

The curtains are thin, and the moon makes a pale rectangle on the floor. Everything you need is within two metres of where you are lying.

If you're bored, stay with the boredom for a moment. It's usually thinner than it looks. Notice any urge to check something. You can wait two more minutes.

Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth. Notice how much of you has already stopped moving.

Let the next part go past without you. Let them.

Nothing here needs following closely. Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself. They will find their own way out.

Choosing this over scrolling counts as a good decision, even a small one.

Let everything get quiet, including this.