A bus at night, after eating too much — for winding down

The story, in full

There are four other people downstairs and nobody up here. A streetlight passes across the ceiling every few seconds. Your ticket is on the seat beside you, already used.

You do not have to get off for another twenty minutes. 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.

Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other. Let your palms open if they were closed.

Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs. Let your toes stop holding on to anything.

The bus stops and starts with a slow, heavy movement. The lights inside are the dim blue kind that buses use at night.

Let your tongue sit heavy in your mouth. Let your feet get heavy first. Heavier than they need to be.

If a worry shows up, name it quietly and let it sit beside you. If you're thinking about the next thing on your list, that list will still be there.

Feel the top of your head relax into the pillow. Let the pillow take the whole weight of your head.

Follow the breath out, and let the next one arrive by itself. Let your attention settle somewhere low, like your feet.

Let the dark be ordinary. You do not have to count them. Let the next part go past without you.

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.