Sleep story · travel, anonymous
A bus at night — a slow story for the end of the day, when you are somewhere noisy — for jet lag
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.
Screen on or off — we suggest dimming it, or simply closing your eyes after the first paragraph.
The story, in full
The lights inside are the dim blue kind that buses use at night. You do not have to get off for another twenty minutes. The bus stops and starts with a slow, heavy movement.
The heating comes through the floor and makes your feet warm. Your ticket is on the seat beside you, already used. There is a long stretch of road ahead with nothing on it.
Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Notice your hips, wide and settled.
Let your hands be completely still. Let your palms open if they were closed.
Outside, someone is walking a dog that does not want to be out. You are on the top deck of the last bus, in the front seat, with the whole window to yourself.
Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head. Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress.
Let your lower back sink down into the mattress. Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed.
There are four other people downstairs and nobody up here. The driver takes the corners slowly, as if the bus were full.
Feel your belly rise and fall without any help from you. Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy.
The city goes past below you, shopfronts and bus stops and people waiting for other buses. A streetlight passes across the ceiling every few seconds.
Let your ribs stop working so hard. Notice how much of you has already stopped moving.
You are on the top deck of the last bus, in the front seat, with the whole window to yourself. The city goes past below you, shopfronts and bus stops and people waiting for other buses.
Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be. Feel your cheeks let go.
You do not have to get off for another twenty minutes. The bus stops and starts with a slow, heavy movement.
Notice if your attention is in the future. Bring it back to the room. If your body wants to move, let it move, then come back.
Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be. Let the mattress take all of it.
Sleep. You can stop listening properly.
Leave it there. Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet. Just the dark.
Almost nothing to do now. Stay with the weight of your body. Slower.
Noise is fine. You are not trying to hear anything subtle.
Let this be the last thing you listen to.
21 paragraphs, roughly 3 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, anonymous.
If this story does not settle you, try The house after everyone is asleep (a sleep story), when you are somewhere unfamiliar — for jet lag, Sleep story: a fire dying down, after a long day — for winding down or A garden in the rain, when you have more time than usual — for the hours after a late shift.