The Curios Shop (Encore)

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If you already listen to me, then you know bedtime stories can be powerful tools for rest.

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Welcome to bedtime stories for everyone,

in which

nothing much happens.

You feel good

and then

you fall asleep.

I'm Catherine Nikolai.

I write and read all the stories you hear on Nothing Much Happens.

Audio Engineering is by Bob Wittersheim.

We are bringing you an encore episode tonight, meaning that this story originally aired at some point in the past.

It could have been recorded with different equipment in a different location.

And since I'm a person and not a computer, I sometimes sound just slightly different.

But the stories are always soothing and family-friendly.

And our wishes for you are always deep rest and sweet dreams.

We've got a few treasures left in our wind down collection, and we're sending them off with love and a deep discount.

Both the weighted pillow and our wind down box are now 50% off.

Think of it as the perfect way to set up your autumn bedtime routine.

Go to nothingmuchhappens.com.

Now,

just like when you were a child, being tucked in for bed,

you're about to hear a story to send you off to dreamland.

The story is meant to be a soft landing place for your mind,

so that instead of circling through the same thoughts you've been stuck in all day,

you can rest in a sweet, peaceful place.

I'll tell our story twice, and I'll go a bit slower the second time through.

If you find yourself awake again later in the night, don't hesitate to turn the show right back on.

Or just take your mind back to the beginning of the story and walk yourself through any part that you can remember, especially anything that felt particularly cozy.

You're training your brain and body to wind down and the more often you do it, the faster you will fall asleep.

So have a bit of patience at the beginning.

Now it's time to turn off the light and put away anything you've been playing with or looking at.

Take some time to cozy your body down into your preferred sleeping position.

Get the right pillow in the right spot and let everything relax.

In time, all of this becomes a signal for your brain.

And the signal says, it's time for sleep.

Let's take a deep breath in through the nose.

and a soft sigh from your mouth.

Do that one more time.

Breathe in.

Sigh out.

Good.

Our story tonight is called The Curious Shop.

And it's the first in our two-part Halloween special this year.

It's a story about a little shop in downtown Nothing much

that takes the right set of circumstances to be found.

It's also about creaky wood floors,

an old book covered in velvet, and a small gray cat with yellow eyes.

The Curios Shop

I'd seen the sign for the shop someday over the summer

when I'd been out pedaling my bike.

The sign was small and wooden,

hanging from an iron brace over a door I'd never noticed.

And even then,

I'd forgotten it as soon as I looked away.

Then, a week later, I'd seen it again,

and it sparked a memory,

and I'd retained a bit more of it.

The third time I'd ridden by,

I was racing home as the sky overhead quickly turned dark,

and the first few sprinkles had fallen on my face and hands.

Still,

I'd seen the sign swinging a bit in the rising wind,

and this time I'd been able to read it.

Painted in fading maroon letters

on a dark green background

was the word curios

and I'd said it a few times in my mind as I sped through the falling rain toward home.

Our downtown wasn't large.

A few streets running north to south,

a few more crossing over them.

A big park with a pond

and a maze of smaller alleys right in the heart of everything.

In the neighborhoods themselves, there were a few pockets here and there,

with a couple buildings pushed together, housing a cafe,

a corner store, and maybe an office.

But not much more than that.

So

I knew just about every block of town.

How had I missed this little place?

Even then,

I'd seemed to have forgotten about it again.

It slipped from my mind, and though I'd fully intended to make a trip over to see the wares,

by the time the rain had dried from my sleeves,

the thought was gone.

It wasn't till today,

when I'd stopped on the corner by the spice shop,

that all the times I'd seen it before came back and finally stuck.

I'd stopped because I spotted the moon rising over the trees in the park

and its full, pale face seemed bigger

and more beautiful than I'd ever seen before.

I must have been mesmerized for a few moments,

lost in thinking about the moon,

how distant and remote she was,

yet present and known to each person in the world.

I came back to myself

as someone brushed past me in a hurry to cross the street.

They spun me around a bit,

and that's when my eyes fell upon the sign.

Curios,

I said to myself.

It was an odd sensation,

but

it seemed like the lines of the door under the sign, of the front window and its contents,

were coming into existence as I looked at them.

I'm sure, because

there was so much to take in,

so many details to observe.

The door was solid wood,

painted black,

but with small carvings all over it,

sigils and motifs

of moons and acorns and honeybees

that had been meticulously shaped in the panels,

and at eye height was a window,

which I immediately peered through.

All I could make out

was a hazy sort of light inside.

That's when I noticed the front window,

likewise framed in carved wood,

decorated here with oak leaves and paw prints,

and things that must be runes,

inscrutable to me, but pretty nonetheless.

The display was lined with jewel-bright orange velvet

and full of interesting objects.

Some I recognized,

and others I didn't.

There were bundles of herbs tied with string in different colours,

decks of tarot cards,

and a wooden box filled with cones of incense.

Laid out across the velvet were a dozen small candles

in every color of the rainbow,

and a bowl whose bottom was as shiny and reflective as a mirror.

I couldn't see past the window, Again, just that hazy bit of light from further in.

I reached for the doorknob,

thinking I'd likely find it locked.

But it turned smoothly in my hand, and I pulled the door open

and stepped through.

It was dim inside,

and my glasses immediately fogged fogged up on my face.

It had been chilly out on the sidewalk,

and the air in here was warm and smelled of rose petals and lavender

and sandalwood.

There were creaky wood floors under my boots,

and the sound of a simmering pot somewhere in the background.

I started to unwind the scarf from around my neck in the warmth,

and a hand reached out to take it.

I'll just hang this up for you.

So glad you finally made it in.

I turned toward the voice,

pulling my fogged glasses off to wipe them on my sweater.

But whoever had spoken was already gone.

My scarf was twisted through the arms of a coat tree,

and the curtain behind a counter opposite was swaying back into place.

I managed to get my now clear lenses back on to my nose

and took a slow look around.

It was a smallish shop,

with the walls painted like a starry midnight sky,

dark blues and purples,

and the stars themselves

luminescing with a bright glow.

There were a few vitrines,

full of tinctures, and rocks, and crystals,

and shelves full of old books and new journals.

I found myself drawn to touch things,

to run my finger over the spines of the books,

and pick up certain stones.

There was a table full of old golden coins and handlebells

and something made from dried reeds that rattled when I shook it.

And I wanted to feel the weight of each object in my hand.

I noticed the black curtain behind the counter twitch,

and a moment later,

a small grey cat

with bright yellow eyes jumped up and landed softly on the case in front of me.

There was a fuzzy shawl spread out over the surface,

already liberally decorated with grey hairs,

that I guessed was her favorite resting spot.

And I swirled it into a soft nest as she watched.

She stepped daintily into it

and laid down like a sphinx and just stared at me.

I laid a hand on her soft body,

and she purred without blinking.

A shiver ran up my spine and I laughed at myself.

It was

deja vu I was feeling.

But I knew I hadn't been here before.

So then

what was this?

I stroked the kitty between her eyes, and supposed it was

being right where I was supposed supposed to be at this particular moment.

The curtain shifted again

and a woman with long black hair in a neat braid over one shoulder stepped through.

She had a book with a green velvet cover in the crook of her elbow

and a soft smile on her face.

Well,

she said,

shall we have a cup of tea and talk about it?

I smiled and nodded.

The Curios Shop

I'd seen the sign for the shop

some day

over the summer

when I'd been out pedaling my bike.

The sign was small and wooden,

hanging from an iron brace over a door I'd never noticed.

And even then,

I'd forgotten it

as soon as I looked away.

then

a week later,

I'd seen it again,

and it sparked a memory,

and I'd retained a bit more of it.

The third time I'd ridden by,

I was racing home as the sky overhead

quickly turned dark,

and the first few sprinkles had fallen on my face and hands.

I'd seen the sign

swinging a bit in the rising wind,

and this time I'd been able to read it,

painted in fading maroon letters

on a dark green background

was the word curios.

And I'd said it a few times in my mind

as I sped through the falling rain toward home.

Our downtown wasn't large,

a few streets running north to south.

A few more crossing over them.

A big park with a pond

and a maze of smaller alleys right in the heart of everything.

In the neighborhoods themselves

there were a few pockets here and there

with a couple buildings pushed together,

housing a cafe,

a corner store,

and maybe

an office.

But not much more than that.

So

I knew just about

every block of town.

how had I missed this little place

even then I'd seem to have forgotten about it again

it slipped from my mind

and though I'd fully intended to make a trip over

to see the wares

by the time the rain had dried from my sleeves,

the thought was gone.

It wasn't till today,

when I stopped on the corner by the spice shop

that all the times I'd seen it before

came back

and finally stuck.

I'd stopped because

I spotted the moon

rising over the trees in the park,

and its full, pale face seemed bigger

and more beautiful than I'd ever seen before.

I must have been mesmerized for a few moments,

lost in thinking about the moon.

How distant and remote.

Yet

she was present

and known to each person in the world.

I came back to myself

as someone brushed past me in a hurry to cross the street.

They spun me around a bit,

and that's when my eyes fell upon the sign.

Curios,

I said to myself.

It was an odd sensation.

But it seemed like

the lines of the door under the sign

of the front window

and its contents

were coming into existence

as I looked at them.

I'm sure

because there was just so much to take in,

so many details to observe.

The door was solid wood, painted black,

but with small carvings all over it,

sigils

and motifs

of moons

and acorns and honey bees

that had been meticulously shaped in the panels,

and at eye height was a window,

which I immediately peered through.

All I could make out was a hazy sort of light inside.

That's when I noticed the front window,

likewise framed in carved wood,

decorated here with oak leaves

and paw prints

and things that must be runes,

inscrutable to me,

but pretty nonetheless.

The display was lined with jewel bright orange velvet

and was full of interesting objects

some I recognized,

and others I didn't.

There were bundles of herbs tied with string in different colours,

decks of tarot cards,

and a wooden box filled with cones of incense.

Laid out across the velvet

were a dozen small candles

in every color of the rainbow,

and a bowl whose bottom was as shiny and reflective as a mirror.

I couldn't see much through the window.

Again,

just that hazy bit of light from further in.

I reached for the doorknob,

thinking I'd likely find it locked.

But it turned smoothly in my hand,

and I pulled the door open

and stepped through.

It was dim inside,

and my glasses immediately fogged up on my face.

It had been chilly out on the sidewalk,

and the air in here was warm

and smelled of rose petals

and lavender

and sandalwood.

There were creaky wood floors under my boots,

and the sound of a simmering pot somewhere in the background.

I started to unwind the scarf from around my neck in the warmth,

and a hand reached out to take it.

I'll just hang this up for you.

So glad you finally made it in.

I turned toward the voice,

pulling my fogged glasses off

to wipe them on my sweater.

But whoever had spoken

was already gone.

My scarf was twisted through the arms of a coat tree,

and the curtain behind a counter opposite was swaying back into place.

I managed to get my now clear lenses back onto my nose

and took a slow look around.

It was

a smallish shop

with the walls painted like a starry midnight sky,

dark blues and purples,

and the stars themselves

luminescing with a bright glow.

There were a few vitrines

full of tinctures,

and rocks, and crystals,

and shelves full of old books, and new journals.

I found myself drawn to touch things,

to run my fingers over the spines of the books,

and pick up certain stones.

There was a table full of old golden coins

and handlebells

and something made from dried reeds

that rattled when I shook it

and I wanted to feel the weight of each object in my hand.

I noticed the black curtain behind the counter twitch,

and a moment later, a small grey cat with bright yellow eyes

jumped up and landed softly on the case in front of me.

There was a fuzzy shawl spread out over the surface,

already liberally decorated with grey hairs.

I guessed it was her favorite resting spot,

and I swirled it into a soft nest

as she watched.

She stepped daintily into it,

and laid down like a sphinx,

and just stared at me.

I laid a hand on her soft body,

and she purred without blinking.

A shiver ran up my spine, and I laughed at myself.

It was

deja vu I was feeling,

but

I knew I hadn't been here before.

So then,

what was this?

I stroked the kitty between her eyes

and supposed it was being

right where I was supposed to be

at this particular moment.

The curtain shifted again,

and a woman with long black hair

in a neat braid over one shoulder

stepped through.

She had a book

with a green velvet cover in the crook of her elbow

and a soft smile on her face.

Well,

she said,

shall we have a cup of tea and talk about it?

I smiled

and nodded.

Sweet dreams.