A bus at night (a sleep story), if you are new to this — for an overtired night

The heating comes through the floor and makes your feet warm. The lights inside are the dim blue kind that buses use at night. The bus stops and starts with a slow, heavy movement.

Outside, someone is walking a dog that does not want to be out. A streetlight passes across the ceiling every few seconds. Your ticket is on the seat beside you, already used.

Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you. Your eyelids can be too heavy to open, and that is fine.

Now feel your whole body at once, lying here, being held up. Let your toes stop holding on to anything.

You are on the top deck of the last bus, in the front seat, with the whole window to yourself. The driver takes the corners slowly, as if the bus were full.

Let the mattress take all of it. Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed.

Let your thumbs rest where they landed. Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it.

The city goes past below you, shopfronts and bus stops and people waiting for other buses. There is a long stretch of road ahead with nothing on it.

Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Notice your hips, wide and settled.

You do not have to get off for another twenty minutes. There are four other people downstairs and nobody up here.

Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs. Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth.

A streetlight passes across the ceiling every few seconds. The heating comes through the floor and makes your feet warm.

Feel your cheeks let go. Let your ribs stop working so hard.

Outside, someone is walking a dog that does not want to be out. The lights inside are the dim blue kind that buses use at night.

If your mind is quiet, don't grab at it. Quiet comes and goes too. Notice if your attention is in the future. Bring it back to the room.

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

Slower. Just the dark.

Let your breathing do the rest. Nothing needs deciding tonight. Stay.

Just the breath. Leave it there. You can stop listening properly.

Nothing here assumes you have done this before.

Let the words go now, and take the quiet with you.