Sleep story: a caravan by the sea, on a day that started badly — for winding down

The story, in full

There is a torch by the door in case you need to walk to the toilets in the night. 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. The bed folds out of the seating area and takes up most of the floor. The window over the sink has a small crack in the corner that has been there for years.

Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth.

Let your calves spread out and flatten. Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed.

The sea is about fifty metres away, over a bank of shingle. The curtains are thin, and the moon makes a pale rectangle on the floor.

Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs.

Notice the moment you realise you've drifted. That moment is the whole skill. Notice if you're waiting for something to happen. Nothing is scheduled.

Let your toes stop holding on to anything. Let your forehead go cool and smooth.

Nothing here needs following closely. The words can start to blur now.

Let the quiet be boring. Just the dark. Let the room get slightly further away.

A day that started badly does not have to stay that way.

The end. Sleep well.

12 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for sea, simple.