A hotel room somewhere, on a day that started badly — for an overtired night

The story, in full

There is a bottle of water on the bedside table with the cap already loosened. The air conditioning makes a low sound that you will stop noticing within a minute. The curtains are heavy and close properly, which is rarer than it should be.

The pillow is slightly too soft, and you fold it in half, which fixes it. There is a small card on the desk with the breakfast times on it, which do not matter tonight. A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it.

Let your shoulder blades spread out and drop. Feel the weight of your head on the pillow.

Feel the weight of the blanket on your legs. Feel one shoulder go heavy, then the other.

The bathroom light is off, and the fan has finally stopped. Nobody in this city knows where you are, and that is restful.

Let the back of your neck lengthen out. Let your thighs be as heavy as they want to be.

Notice how much of you has already stopped moving. Let your ribs stop working so hard.

The room is on the fourth floor, and the window looks out onto a street with one lit shop. The carpet is the colour of weak coffee and absorbs every sound.

Let your breathing get slower without deciding to slow it. Your fingers can stop doing anything at all.

The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on. Your case is open on the luggage rack, half unpacked.

Feel the back of your knees soften into the bed. Let your hands be completely still.

The pillow is slightly too soft, and you fold it in half, which fixes it. There is a bottle of water on the bedside table with the cap already loosened.

Let your thumbs rest where they landed. Let your toes stop holding on to anything.

A tram goes past below, and you hear it before you see it. The bed has been turned down, and the sheets are cool on the side you have not been lying on.

If you're irritated, that's allowed. Irritation is just weather. Notice how you're sitting. Adjust if you need to. Then settle again.

Feel your heels sink a little into the mattress. Notice the places where your body touches the bed, and let them be heavy.

Nothing needs deciding tonight. Nothing here needs following closely.

Let it all get further away. Let them. Let the quiet be boring.

Let the thoughts come and go without you getting up to answer. Softer. You can stop listening properly.

A day that started badly does not have to stay that way.

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

21 paragraphs, roughly 4 minutes read slowly aloud. Written for travel, anonymous.