Speaker 1: Welcome to Bedtime Stories for grown ups, in which nothing
Speaker 1: much happens, you feel good, and then you fall asleep.
Speaker 1: All stories are written and read by me, Katherine Nikolay,
Speaker 1: with audio engineering by Bob Wittersheim. Nothing Much Happens is
Speaker 1: a proud member of the Curious Cast Network. Thank you
Speaker 1: for listening and for sharing our stories with anyone you
Speaker 1: know who likes relaxation and good sleep. You can also
Speaker 1: follow us on Instagram and Facebook for a bit of
Speaker 1: extra coziness. Let me explain a bit about how to
Speaker 1: use this podcast. I'm about to tell you a bedtime
Speaker 1: story to help you drift off to sleep. The story
Speaker 1: is a simple one, and it exists to give your
Speaker 1: brain a calm, content place to rest. I'll read the
Speaker 1: story twice and I'll go a little slower the second
Speaker 1: time through. Let your thoughts weave into the details of
Speaker 1: the story, and before you know it, you'll be waking
Speaker 1: up tomorrow feeling rested and refreshed. If you happen to
Speaker 1: wake in the middle of the night, think back through
Speaker 1: any part of the story that you can remember. It'll
Speaker 1: put your brain right back on track for deep sleep.
Speaker 1: Now switch off your light, set down anything you've been
Speaker 1: looking at and get as comfortable as you can. All
Speaker 1: of this is building a reliable response in your brain
Speaker 1: and body. So know that the more you do it,
Speaker 1: the more you'll be able to count on getting good
Speaker 1: sleep and feeling relaxed whenever you need it. Let's take
Speaker 1: a deep breath, in through the nose and out through
Speaker 1: the mouth. Nice, take one more in and out. Our
Speaker 1: story tonight is called a Little Romance, and it's a
Speaker 1: story about the beginnings of spring in the city. It's
Speaker 1: also about fond memories of young love, a picture tucked
Speaker 1: into the back of a wallet, and the sweet realization
Speaker 1: that someone somewhere is thinking of you. A Little Romance.
Speaker 1: I was out on the city streets on a bright
Speaker 1: winter day. It was cold, and the snow still lay
Speaker 1: thick on the ground in the park and piled around
Speaker 1: the trunks of trees in the boulevard. But the sun
Speaker 1: was out and there was a feeling of newness and freshness.
Speaker 1: We weren't huddling, hunched in our coats and scarves, or
Speaker 1: racing from shop to shop to dive out of the cold.
Speaker 1: We were, for the first time in a few months, strolling,
Speaker 1: taking our time, turning our faces to the sun and
Speaker 1: tasting just a scrap of spring in the air. And
Speaker 1: by we, I mean all of us out on the
Speaker 1: street today. I was alone, but I wasn't. The sunshine
Speaker 1: was making a smile at each other as we crossed paths,
Speaker 1: all of us knowing we were thinking the same thing,
Speaker 1: This feels good. I made my way down the main street,
Speaker 1: hands deep in my pockets, and turned at the corner
Speaker 1: toward the park. It wasn't quite lunchtime yet, and I
Speaker 1: had no place to be. There was a news stand
Speaker 1: at the entrance to the park, and I stopped and
Speaker 1: looked through a few papers and magazines. Found one with
Speaker 1: pictures of mountaintops in South America and busy city streets
Speaker 1: in Japan there were fields of flowers and cold deserts
Speaker 1: at night. I bought it and a book of crossword puzzles,
Speaker 1: slid them into my bag, and stepped back onto the
Speaker 1: park path. It wound around a pond still topped with ice,
Speaker 1: and walking all the way around it only took a
Speaker 1: few minutes. I stopped halfway round and sat on a
Speaker 1: bench in the bright sun. A dozen geese, unbothered by
Speaker 1: the icy water, paddled in the melted puddles of the
Speaker 1: lake surface, and I smiled at their putty gray feet
Speaker 1: and slick black neck feathers. I remembered that when geese
Speaker 1: were on the ground you called them collectively a gaggle,
Speaker 1: but when they were in flight, they were called a
Speaker 1: skein of geese. I wondered what they called us, and,
Speaker 1: pulling my coat tighter around me, looked down at the
Speaker 1: bench seat and saw a sloppy heart carved in. I
Speaker 1: ran my finger over the groove dug into the wood,
Speaker 1: and wondered where M and L were today, and if
Speaker 1: they still put their letters together inside of a heart.
Speaker 1: I liked to think so maybe they were all grown
Speaker 1: up now, and maybe they walked through the park and
Speaker 1: sat on this bench together and looked down at the
Speaker 1: heart and remembered laughingly the days of young love. If
Speaker 1: so I should leave them, do it. I pulled my
Speaker 1: bag back on to my shoulder and finished my circle
Speaker 1: of the pond, heading down a side street to a
Speaker 1: little cafe I knew inside the warm air wrapped around me,
Speaker 1: making me feel how cold I'd been when I ordered
Speaker 1: a bowl of brothy soup full of noodles and vegetables
Speaker 1: and seasoned with ginger and a little spice. It warmed
Speaker 1: me from my center, and when it was gone, I
Speaker 1: ordered a cup of jasmine tea and slipped a cookie
Speaker 1: i'd bought at a bakery that morning from my pocket
Speaker 1: to dunk in my cup. I thought again of M
Speaker 1: and L and love and rom Man's, and as I
Speaker 1: opened my wallet to pay for my lunch, I slipped
Speaker 1: an old folded photo strip from a secret spot behind
Speaker 1: my library card. It had been taken years ago at
Speaker 1: a little booth on a boardwalk, four frames showing two
Speaker 1: faces cheeked cheek, then eyes locked on each other's, then
Speaker 1: a kiss and a goofy laugh. I remembered that in
Speaker 1: Italian a love affair was sometimes described as a story
Speaker 1: made with someone, and I thought that I had been lucky.
Speaker 1: All the stories I'd made had made me a little better,
Speaker 1: a little wiser, a little more understanding, but never less
Speaker 1: open hearted. I folded the photo again along its well
Speaker 1: worn crease, and slipped it back into its home, and
Speaker 1: stepped out onto the street. The streets were busy with
Speaker 1: the lunch hour, and I wove through window shoppers and
Speaker 1: slow walkers. Noticed a few kids who must be playing
Speaker 1: hooky from school, some brazen and looking around to see
Speaker 1: who was noticing them being so grown up, and some
Speaker 1: with eyes down, just trying to not get caught as
Speaker 1: they stood in line to buy tickets at the movie theater.
Speaker 1: The sky was still bright, and I thought about walking
Speaker 1: for a while yet, doing some shopping, or visiting a
Speaker 1: friend who lived in the next block. But then I
Speaker 1: thought of that magazine of pictures from around the world,
Speaker 1: and that book of cross words, and the way the
Speaker 1: afternoon sun slanted across the kitchen table in my apartment,
Speaker 1: and of trading in my boots for slippers, and turned
Speaker 1: toward my own street. Passing the bookshop. I noticed the
Speaker 1: owner trying to push a cart of books through the doorway,
Speaker 1: and I stopped to hold it open for her sidewalk
Speaker 1: sails already. I asked, well, it's sunny. She smiled at me.
Speaker 1: I helped her slide the cart out onto the sidewalk,
Speaker 1: and we turned a few paperbacks around so the titles
Speaker 1: were easy to read. She nodded over her shoulder to
Speaker 1: the apartment mailboxes on the bricks beside the entrance to
Speaker 1: my place. Looks like you got something in your box.
Speaker 1: Sure enough, the flap was tilted and I could see
Speaker 1: a corner of something in there. I fished it out
Speaker 1: and held in my hand a small, red heart shaped box.
Speaker 1: I felt a sneaking smile spreading on my face, and
Speaker 1: I opened it up to see a handful of chocolates
Speaker 1: tucked in red paper wrappers inside. I might have been blushing,
Speaker 1: so just called a quick thanks over my shoulder and
Speaker 1: slipped through my door. A little romance. I was out
Speaker 1: on the city streets on a bright winter day. It
Speaker 1: was cold, and the snow still lay thick on the
Speaker 1: ground in the park and piled around the trunks of
Speaker 1: trees in the boulevard. But the sun was out and
Speaker 1: there was a feeling of newness and freshness. We weren't huddling,
Speaker 1: hunched in our coats and scarves, or racing from shop
Speaker 1: to shop to dive out of the cold. We were,
Speaker 1: for the first time in a few months, strolling, taking
Speaker 1: our time, turning our faces to the sun and tasting
Speaker 1: just a scrap of spring in the air. And by we,
Speaker 1: I mean all of us out on the street to day.
Speaker 1: I was alone, but I wasn't. The sunshine was making
Speaker 1: a smile at each other as we crossed paths, all
Speaker 1: of us knowing we were thinking the same thing, This
Speaker 1: feels good. I made my way down to the main street,
Speaker 1: hands deep in my pockets, and turned at the corner
Speaker 1: toward the park. It wasn't quite lunch time yet, and
Speaker 1: I had no place to be. There was a news
Speaker 1: stand at the entrance to the park, and I stopped
Speaker 1: and looked through a few papers and magazines. I found
Speaker 1: one with pictures of mountain tops in South America and
Speaker 1: busy city streets in Japan there were fields of flowers
Speaker 1: and cold deserts at night. I bought it and a
Speaker 1: book of crossword puzzles, slid them into my bag, and
Speaker 1: stepped back out on to the park path. It wound
Speaker 1: around a pond still topped with ice, and walking all
Speaker 1: the way around it only took a few minutes. I
Speaker 1: stopped halfway round and sat on a bench in the
Speaker 1: bright sun. A dozen geese, unbothered by the icy water,
Speaker 1: paddled in the melted puddles of the lake's surface, and
Speaker 1: I smiled at their putty gray feet and slick black
Speaker 1: neck feathers. I remembered that when geese were on the ground,
Speaker 1: you called them collectively a gaggle, but when they were
Speaker 1: in flight you called them a skein of geese. I
Speaker 1: wondered what they called us, and, pulling my coat tighter
Speaker 1: around me, looked down at the bench seat and saw
Speaker 1: a sloppy heart carved into it. I ran my finger
Speaker 1: over the groove dug into the wood, and wondered where
Speaker 1: M and L were to day, and if they still
Speaker 1: put their letters together inside of a heart. I like
Speaker 1: to think so maybe they were all grown up now,
Speaker 1: and maybe they walked through the park and sat on
Speaker 1: this bench together and looked down at the heart and
Speaker 1: remembered laughingly the days of young love. If so, I
Speaker 1: should leave them to it. I pulled my bag back
Speaker 1: on to my shoulder and finished my circle of the pond,
Speaker 1: heading down a side street to a little cafe I
Speaker 1: knew inside. The warm air wrapped around me, making me
Speaker 1: feel how cold i'd been, and I ordered a bowl
Speaker 1: of brothy soup full of noodles and vegetables and seasoned
Speaker 1: with ginger and a little spice. It warmed me from
Speaker 1: my center, and when it was gone, I ordered a
Speaker 1: cup of jasmine tea and slipped a cookie i'd bought
Speaker 1: at a bakery that morning. From my pocket to dunk
Speaker 1: in my cup, I thought again of M and L
Speaker 1: and love and romance. As I opened my wallet to
Speaker 1: pay for my lunch, I slipped an old folded photo
Speaker 1: strip from a secret spot behind my library card. It
Speaker 1: had been taken years ago, had a little booth on
Speaker 1: a boardwalk, four frames showing two faces cheek to cheek,
Speaker 1: then eyes locked on each others, then a kiss and
Speaker 1: a goofy laugh. I remembered that in Italian a love
Speaker 1: affair was sometimes described as a story made with someone,
Speaker 1: and I thought that I had been lucky. All the
Speaker 1: stories I'd made had made me a little better, a
Speaker 1: little wiser, a little more understanding, but never less open hearted.
Speaker 1: I folded the photo along its well worn crease and
Speaker 1: slipped it back into its home, and stepped out onto
Speaker 1: the street. The streets were busy with the lunch hower,
Speaker 1: and I wove through window shoppers and slow walkers. Noticed
Speaker 1: a few kids who must be playing hooky from school,
Speaker 1: some brazen and looking around to see who was noticing
Speaker 1: them being so grown up, and some with eyes down
Speaker 1: just trying not to get caught. As they stood in
Speaker 1: line to buy tickets at the movie theater. The sky
Speaker 1: was still bright, and I thought about walking for a
Speaker 1: while yet, doing some shopping, or visiting a friend who
Speaker 1: lived in the next block. But then I thought of
Speaker 1: that magazine of pictures from around the world, and that
Speaker 1: book of crosswords, and the way that the afternoon sun
Speaker 1: slanted across the kitchen table in my apartment, and of
Speaker 1: trading in my boots for slippers. And turned toward my
Speaker 1: own street, passing the bookshop I know, the owner trying
Speaker 1: to push a cart of books through the doorway, and
Speaker 1: stopped to hold it open for her sidewalk sails already.
Speaker 1: I asked, well, it's sunny. She smiled at me. I
Speaker 1: helped her slide the cart onto the sidewalk, and we
Speaker 1: turned a few paperbacks around so the titles were easy
Speaker 1: to read. She nodded over her shoulder to the apartment
Speaker 1: mailboxes on the bricks beside the entrance to my place.
Speaker 1: It looks like you've got something in your box. Sure enough,
Speaker 1: the flap was tilted and I could see the corner
Speaker 1: of something in there. I fished it out and held
Speaker 1: it in my hand, a small, red heart shaped box.
Speaker 1: I felt a sneaking smile spread on my face, and
Speaker 1: I opened it up to see a handful of chocolates
Speaker 1: tucked in red paper wrappers and sighed I might have
Speaker 1: been blushing, so just called a quick thanks over my
Speaker 1: shoulder and slipped through my door. Sweet Dreams,