A bus at night (a sleep story), when you want to finish something — for a night when you do not want to think

The bus stops and starts with a slow, heavy movement. You do not have to get off for another twenty minutes. The driver takes the corners slowly, as if the bus were full.

There are four other people downstairs and nobody up here. Outside, someone is walking a dog that does not want to be out. The city goes past below you, shopfronts and bus stops and people waiting for other buses.

Your elbows can stop being hinges for now. Let your palms open if they were closed.

Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you. Let everything you were holding today stay on the floor beside the bed.

You are on the top deck of the last bus, in the front seat, with the whole window to yourself. The heating comes through the floor and makes your feet warm.

Your ankles can go loose now. Let your thumbs rest where they landed.

Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it. Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed.

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

Your chest can be still now. Let the back of your neck lengthen out.

Your ticket is on the seat beside you, already used. The lights inside are the dim blue kind that buses use at night.

Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress. Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow.

You are on the top deck of the last bus, in the front seat, with the whole window to yourself. There is a long stretch of road ahead with nothing on it.

Let your lower back sink down into the mattress. Feel your wrists loosen.

Your ticket is on the seat beside you, already used. The heating comes through the floor and makes your feet warm.

Notice how you're sitting. Adjust if you need to. Then settle again. If you've lost track of where we were, you haven't lost anything important.

Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy. Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be.

You do not have to count them. Stay.

Let them. Let the thoughts come and go without you getting up to answer. Nothing here needs following closely.

Let the quiet be boring. Nothing needs deciding tonight. Just the dark.

Wanting to finish something is a better motivation than wanting to relax.

There is nothing more to follow. Let the rest happen on its own.