A bus at night, after eating too much — for a night when you do not want to think

The story, in full

The city goes past below you, shopfronts and bus stops and people waiting for other buses. You are on the top deck of the last bus, in the front seat, with the whole window to yourself. There are four other people downstairs and nobody up here.

There is a long stretch of road ahead with nothing on it. 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.

Let the back of your neck lengthen out. Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress.

Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow. Feel your heartbeat somewhere far away.

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

Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Let your ribs stop working so hard.

Notice the tone of your own inner voice. Is it kind? If you feel numb, that's a valid thing to feel. Nothing to fix.

Let your upper arms fall wherever gravity puts them. Notice how much of you has already stopped moving.

Let the room get slightly further away. Let the breath be the only thing you are doing.

Almost nothing to do now. Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet. You can stop listening properly.

Do this sitting up, not lying down, if you have just eaten.

Goodnight. There is nothing left to do.

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