A bus at night (a sleep story), when you are short on time — for a racing mind

The story, in full

The driver takes the corners slowly, as if the bus were full. There are four other people downstairs and nobody up here. The bus stops and starts with a slow, heavy movement.

The lights inside are the dim blue kind that buses use at night. The city goes past below you, shopfronts and bus stops and people waiting for other buses. The heating comes through the floor and makes your feet warm.

Let your hands be completely still. Let your forehead go cool and smooth.

Notice your hips, wide and settled. Let your lower back sink down into the mattress.

You are on the top deck of the last bus, in the front seat, with the whole window to yourself. Outside, someone is walking a dog that does not want to be out.

Let your calves spread out and flatten. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.

Let your thumbs rest where they landed. Notice how much of you has already stopped moving.

A streetlight passes across the ceiling every few seconds. There is a long stretch of road ahead with nothing on it.

Notice how you're sitting. Adjust if you need to. Then settle again. Notice if you're being hard on yourself about any of this.

Let the mattress take all of it. Let your ribs stop working so hard.

Sleep. Just the breath.

They will find their own way out. Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself. Let them.

Pick this one when you are short on time.

Let everything get quiet, including this.

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