Sleep story · travel, anonymous

A bus at night (a sleep story), after a difficult conversation — for the hours after a late shift

Upper deck, front seat, a city going past that you do not have to join.

Lights off. Press begin and let the story read itself to you, at the pace of sleep.

Read it myself

Screen on or off — we suggest dimming it, or simply closing your eyes after the first paragraph.

The story, in full

You are on the top deck of the last bus, in the front seat, with the whole window to yourself. You do not have to get off for another twenty minutes. The city goes past below you, shopfronts and bus stops and people waiting for other buses.

The driver takes the corners slowly, as if the bus were full. A streetlight passes across the ceiling every few seconds. Your ticket is on the seat beside you, already used.

Feel the weight of your head on the pillow. Feel your cheeks let go.

Let the space between your eyebrows smooth out. Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine.

The bus stops and starts with a slow, heavy movement. Outside, someone is walking a dog that does not want to be out.

Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed. Notice your hips, wide and settled.

Let your hands be completely still. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.

The lights inside are the dim blue kind that buses use at night. The heating comes through the floor and makes your feet warm.

If a song is stuck in your head, let it play in the background. Notice whether you're breathing or holding. Start breathing again.

Your elbows can stop being hinges for now. Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed.

Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself. Just the breath.

Sleep. Let the breath be the only thing you are doing. Let each breath be a little smaller than the last.

Difficult conversations leave a residue. This is for the residue.

No more sentences. Just the weight of you in the bed.

14 paragraphs, roughly 2 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, anonymous.