Sleep story · sea, simple
A caravan by the sea — a slow story for the end of the day, when you cannot concentrate on anything else — for a night when you do not want to think
Thin walls, wind outside, and the sound of shingle about fifty metres away.
Reading it yourself. Back to the audio version.
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. The window over the sink has a small crack in the corner that has been there for years.
There is a gas ring, a kettle, and two cups, one of which is a different pattern. Everything you need is within two metres of where you are lying. A clock on the wall ticks with a slight rattle on every second.
Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy. Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them.
Your jaw can drop slightly. Let your teeth part. Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head.
You can hear the shingle moving as the waves pull back. The curtains are thin, and the moon makes a pale rectangle on the floor.
Feel your wrists loosen. Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other.
Notice the pull to make this mean something. It doesn't have to. If you're judging your performance, that's the same habit as judging everything else.
Feel your cheeks let go. Your chest can be still now.
They will find their own way out. Softer.
Just the weight. Just the dark. Let it all get further away.
When concentration is gone, work with what is left.
Goodnight. There is nothing left to do.