Sleep story · sea, simple
A caravan by the sea — a slow story for the end of the day, if you are doing this instead of scrolling — for jet lag
Thin walls, wind outside, and the sound of shingle about fifty metres away.
Reading it yourself. Back to the audio version.
The window over the sink has a small crack in the corner that has been there for years. Everything you need is within two metres of where you are lying. The sea is about fifty metres away, over a bank of shingle.
There is a torch by the door in case you need to walk to the toilets in the night. The whole caravan smells of salt, gas and clean bedding. The caravan rocks very slightly in the wind, which is more comforting than it sounds.
Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow. Your ankles can go loose now.
Your chest can be still now. Let the mattress take all of it.
There is a gas ring, a kettle, and two cups, one of which is a different pattern. You can hear the shingle moving as the waves pull back.
Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine. Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other.
Feel your cheeks let go. Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part.
A clock on the wall ticks with a slight rattle on every second. The wind pushes against the side of the caravan in long, slow gusts.
Notice any urge to check something. You can wait two more minutes. Your mind will leave about a hundred times. Come back about a hundred times.
Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth. Let your hands be completely still.
Let the next part go past without you. Just the dark.
Just the weight. Let each breath be a little smaller than the last. Let the dark be ordinary.
Choosing this over scrolling counts as a good decision, even a small one.
There is nothing more to follow. Let the rest happen on its own.