Sleep story: a caravan by the sea, when you are

The story, in full

There is a torch by the door in case you need to walk to the toilets in the night. The curtains are thin, and the moon makes a pale rectangle on the floor. You can hear the shingle moving as the waves pull back.

The whole caravan smells of salt, gas and clean bedding. The sea is about fifty metres away, over a bank of shingle. The bed folds out of the seating area and takes up most of the floor.

Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be. Let your palms open if they were closed.

Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up. Feel your wrists loosen.

There is a gas ring, a kettle, and two cups, one of which is a different pattern. A clock on the wall ticks with a slight rattle on every second.

Let the mattress take all of it. Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them.

Let your lower back sink down into the mattress. Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs.

The caravan rocks very slightly in the wind, which is more comforting than it sounds. Everything you need is within two metres of where you are lying.

If you're thinking about the next thing on your list, that list will still be there. If your mind is quiet, don't grab at it. Quiet comes and goes too.

Your ankles can go loose now. Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away.

Let each breath be a little smaller than the last. Nothing needs deciding tonight.

Slower. The words can start to blur now. Let the sound of this go soft at the edges.

Get a blanket first. Being cold defeats the point.

Let everything get quiet, including this.

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