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I am so excited for the spa day.
Candles lit.
Music on.
Hot tub warm and ready.
And then my chronic hives come back.
Again, in the middle of my spa day.
What a wet blanket.
Looks like another spell of itchy red skin.
If you have chronic spontaneous urticaria or CSU, there is a different treatment option.
Hives during my next spa day?
Not if I can help it.
Learn more at treatmyhives.com.
Welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax, and we get sleepy.
My name's Thomas, and I'm your host.
Thank you so much for being here.
Tonight's story will be read by Jessica, and was written by Ashae.
It's a unique story in which we'll be guided by a little robot who finds a woman it met long ago and goes on an adventure to bring happy memories back to a town.
We'll delve into the realm of memories and childhood, reminding us of the moments when we were most at peace in life.
So my friends, I hope you're feeling settled, relaxed, and at peace right now.
If so, you might even sense yourself edging closer to sleep with each passing breath.
However, if you need a little bit of help to get closer to that state of relaxation and rest, then just follow along with me for the next few moments.
Feel free to move around and adjust anything you need to find optimal comfort at this time.
And with a gentle awareness of your breath, just reach a place of stillness and ease by taking a few long and slow inhales and exhales.
Perhaps there is a fair bit of chatter and activity going on in your mind.
Maybe you're trying to block out this busyness.
But we all know that trying not to think about something typically has the opposite effect and we end up in a bit of a battle with our own minds.
So, instead of pushing thoughts away altogether, how about we just do some calm, intentional thinking?
So first, I'd like you to think about your favorite color.
Once you have that in mind, think of an object or a fruit, an animal or anything else that has or is your favorite color.
Then think of another object that begins with the same letter as the one you're thinking of now.
Finally, consider what colour this new object is.
And, if you like, you can repeat all of those steps again, thinking of another object of that color, then an object that begins with the same letter, and so on.
This is just a small example of a calming, intentional game of thinking, and it may or may not work well for you.
But just giving your brain some sort of easy relaxing task if it feels busy with swirling thoughts can be really effective at getting us to a more relaxed and restful state.
And though it might not lead directly to sleep, It will more than likely take your mind away from the stuff that was keeping you awake in the first place.
So give that intentional calming thinking a try, if and when you need to.
But of course, we are a storytelling podcast.
And for now, I invite you to tune into our story and to allow your imagination to be carried on a gentle journey by Jessica's soothing voice.
Start to picture a peaceful, scenic town somewhere far away.
Because this is where our story begins.
In a little town, somewhere in the corner of the world, it is nighttime.
On Wisteria Avenue, the residents are getting ready for bed.
The lights are being turned off, blankets are being pulled up to chins and someone is whispering 'Goodnight'.
The grand clock in the town center strikes 11 o'clock.
It is a gentle chime, like monks ringing a temple bell.
The vibrations of the sound travel through the paving stones of the streets.
There is no other sound to be heard.
There is no other sight to be seen besides the twinkling of the stars.
Then, out of the darkness, a little robot rolls out into the street.
It is the size of a small child, with a round barrel torso and large shining eyes.
It has one wheel, and on its back is painted its name, Mem AA.
Mem AA is old.
It was the first of its kind.
And no matter how lovingly it has been taken care of, its little wheel still squeaks when it rolls forward and the lights behind its eyes flicker as they scan the street.
From further down the street...
Mem-JR emerges.
And then there is Mem-II.
The three robots each roll up to different front doors.
Without having to knock, the doors open and invite them inside.
Three solitary bedroom lights in three different houses turn on in Wisteria Avenue.
The Membots remain inside for a good long while.
All that can be noticed of their presence is the pleasant low hum that emits out of the bottom of three doors.
Without knowing why, the residents of Wisteria Avenue all sigh and roll over in their sleep.
The town clock strikes midnight, and, like clockwork cuckoo birds, the Membots all reappear at once.
They roll away from Wisteria Avenue looking as pleased with themselves as their little metal faces will allow them.
If anyone was watching, they would notice that the light behind Mem AA's eyes is shining a little brighter.
The street is quiet once more.
All is as it should be.
But wait because, trailing far behind its comrades, here is MEM-RE finally making its scheduled appearance.
This robot does not roll forward in straight lines.
It wanders and strays. like it is not quite sure which direction it should go.
And its eyes roam freely, too, taking in everything around it.
Suddenly, Mem-RE stops in the middle of Wisteria Avenue.
It looks up at the sky.
Who can say what has caught the little robot's attention this time?
Perhaps there is a short circuit in its wiring.
If only it were possible to say for sure whether robots are capable of dreaming.
Mem-RE certainly gives off the appearance of a dreamer.
Eventually, Mem-RE gets moving again.
It rolls up to the door of Number 9, a little yellow house in the middle of Wisteria Avenue.
The door stays stubbornly shut for a while, as if it doesn't want to let the Membot in.
But, eventually, it swings open wide.
Mem-RE rolls into an invitingly warm hallway.
It takes some time to stare at a picture on the wall of a crashing blue and white wave.
It zooms in to take in all the fine details of the artist's brushstrokes, with many more distractions and delays along the way.
MRE eventually bumps up the stairs and finds Keiko's room.
Keiko is twenty.
If MRE had arrived when it was supposed to, one hour ago, Keiko would have still been nineteen.
Keiko sits upright in bed when Mem Re enters.
She wasn't sleeping.
She was just pretending.
Instead, she'd been nervously waiting for her Membot to show up.
She'd hummed a lullaby to keep herself calm, even when she heard the clock strike midnight.
And she began to think that there was no Membot coming for her that night.
Keiko reads Mem R.E.'
's name painted on its back.
She feels like she should bow to it, to show respect for the service it is about to perform for her.
But MEM-RE is a robot, not a person.
It is nothing more than a machine, as its name implies, MEM-RE.
Memory extraction machine.
MemRE is here to take Keiko's favorite childhood memory.
Then, when the ritual is complete, Keiko will officially be an adult.
She can stop attending the town school and start her chosen career.
Everyone gets a visit from a Membot the night before their birthday.
They come at different ages, sometimes on the 13th, sometimes on the 18th.
At 20, Keiko had been starting to worry that she might never get to become an adult.
But now Mem Re is here, better late than never.
And Keiko's future as an engineer is more in reach than it ever was before.
But first, what memory will she sacrifice?
Whichever one she chooses, it won't disappear forever.
She can submit a form and go to re-experience it in the Mem Archives whenever she pleases.
But it won't be just hers anymore.
It will be in there with all the other favorite childhood memories of every other adult in town.
Keiko moves to sit cross-legged on the floor, so she and Mem-RE are eye-to-eye.
It extends its little mechanical hand, and she wraps her own warm palm.
Then, Keiko begins to speak her memory out loud.
I was quite young and sitting amongst the cherry blossoms in my grandparents' garden.
It was a long, warm, sleepy kind of day.
I could hear a stream flowing nearby.
I had my socks off, wiggling my toes in the cool grass.
A kind adult had secretly given me a bowl of almond tofu to eat.
I can still remember its taste. how sweet and creamy it was.
I ate each mouthful slowly as I counted all the flying insects that went by over my head.
When I finished my dessert, I realized I was lonely.
This was a new experience for me.
I'd grown up without siblings, but I'd always had plenty of friends.
Except for some reason, on this day, all my friends were busy doing something without me.
I decided to make a friend.
I pulled some twigs and flowers from the pink tree.
I tied them together to make a little doll girl.
Then, I took one of my grandparents' oldest dishcloths.
It must have been about 100 years old.
I fashioned it into a little dress for my doll.
But even after all that, it still felt more like a toy than a friend.
So I ran over to the stream. and scooped up a handful of water.
I slowly let the water trickle down through my fingers.
It rained down onto my little cherry blossom girl, drop by drop.
I imagined the water filling up her heart and giving her life.
Soon, my little cherry blossom girl began to dance.
She spun around in the grass and leapt onto the backs of the flying insects.
We laughed and played together the whole afternoon long.
When we were tired, we lay down on the grass.
We listened to the sound of each other's breath.
That day, I decided that the cherry blossom girl and I were going to be friends forever.
I tucked her into my skirt and took her with me away from my grandparents' house.
Now Keiko stands up from her floor and goes over to the back shelves of her bedroom.
From next to a stack of books, she picks up The Cherry Blossom Girl.
Her dishcloth is falling off her and the pink flowers that were once her hair have all fallen out and come to rest at her feet.
But she still looks like, at any moment, she might get up and dance.
Keiko gives her to Memaree.
That's it.
That's what it was like for me to be a child, she says.
Memaree opens a door in the front of its chest.
It puts the doll carefully inside.
Its senses register a trace of almond tofu still clinging to her twiggy limbs.
The smell distracts the robot, and it completely forgets that Keiko is still there.
Keiko waits patiently for MemRE to do or say something else.
She doesn't know how this is supposed to go, but she imagined becoming an adult would be more organized than this.
She wonders if MemRE is a new MemBot. and maybe is just as confused as she is.
She feels a sudden warmth of friendship towards the little robot.
It is a very similar feeling to what she once felt for her little cherry blossom girl.
But she no longer remembers that now.
The memory has been given away.
MemRE leaves Wisteria Avenue with Keiko's childhood memory in its chest.
It wonders, not for the first time, why the people of this town willingly give up their memories.
If it could have the kind of memories that they had, it wouldn't give them up for the world.
Much time passes by.
Who can say how long?
The only thing that is certain is that the minutes become hours, the hours become days and the days become years.
This town has always moved at its own pace.
A second can move treacle slow, but a week can seem like it passed in the blink of an eye.
Although they have clocks, they do not let them dictate their lives.
There is nothing wrong with taking your time.
In the Membot warehouse, on the edge of the little town, MemRE stirs after a long hibernation.
It powers its functions back on, and checks that everything is in working order.
Then, MemRE looks around.
All of its fellow Membots are in hibernation mode around it.
They are tucked away in their charging points, where they go every morning when their services are complete.
But by the light of the moon streaming through the arched warehouse windows, MemRE can tell that it is late into the night.
Much later than the MemBots are programmed to wake up.
How strange.
Usually, MemRE is the only one who is late.
MemRE rolls over to MemAA in the port next door and tries to nudge the older robot awake.
MemAA does not react.
MEM-RE looks closer and sees that MEM-AA's charging light is red, despite the fact that it is clearly still plugged in.
MEM-RE goes back to its own port, picks up its plug, and takes it back to MEM-AA.
While it waits, it looks at all the memorabilia that it has hung up around its port.
A hand-drawn picture book with a dedication on the first page.
A length of string tied into the shape of a makeshift ring, a broken music box which used to play a bamboo flute lullaby.
These are all Mem RE's favorite memories.
It should have taken the mementos to the Mem archives after it collected them, but it had preferred to keep them close.
MemAA still isn't charging.
MemRE takes the plug out and rolls over to MemJR, then MemII and every other MemBot in the warehouse.
None of them are turning on.
MemRE takes another look around and wonders where all the engineers have gone.
Usually, they are here to solve any problems with the MemBots.
MemRE makes a life-changing decision then, a brave decision that no other little Membot like itself has ever made before.
It decides to leave the warehouse.
Not to collect memories, but to find the engineers that will wake up its friends.
If a robot could take a deep breath to steady its nerves, MemRE would do so now.
A deep breath in.
And out.
And out into the world.
It is immediately abundantly clear that the little town is not the same little town that Mem RE last visited.
The buildings are all in the same place and the streets all have the same names, but something is different.
Everything seems far away and hazy, as if the world is painted in watercolors.
There are no purple flowers, no pink trees, no little yellow houses.
Everything has gone to grey.
There are people walking through the streets despite the late hour.
They carry briefcases. and wear grey suits.
Some of them bark orders through their phones.
Others look at their watches and begin to walk faster.
None of them make eye contact with each other or exchange a smile or a greeting.
And none of them pay any attention to MemRE as it rolls between their legs.
MemRE doesn't know how it will locate the missing engineers.
They used to wear coats with the MemBot's logo on them.
But now, everyone in the little town is dressed exactly the same.
It is impossible to tell the gardener from the lawyer or the poet from the banker.
After many hours of wandering, Mem Re is about to give up.
Perhaps there are no engineers left in this little town.
They would not be the only people to have disappeared.
Because, during all its wanderings, Mem Re couldn't help but notice one thing.
All of the children are gone.
It saw plenty of young people, even babies, but none of them were children.
They were all dressed in grey suits, just like the adults.
They all walked in straight lines as though they had somewhere incredibly important they needed to be.
If MemRE had tried to take any new childhood memories, it probably wouldn't have been able to find any.
Memre rolls forlornly onto a familiar street, but it is too distracted to recognize it.
The little Membot cannot even bring itself to look up at the stars anymore.
What has happened to its little town?
Just then, the door of Number 9 Wisteria Avenue swings open.
Out comes a woman in her late middle years.
She is dressed all in grey, and she looks tired.
She is looking down at her watch so she doesn't notice Mem-RE standing in front of her until she trips over it.
Instinctively, Mem-RE's mechanical hand shoots out to catch her before she falls.
Her warm palm wraps around its hand.
They look at each other.
Mem-Ai knows that this must be Keiko.
But it doesn't understand how so many years could have passed since it last saw her.
According to its internal chronometer, it was only yesterday that it took her favorite childhood memory from her.
It takes Keiko a little bit longer to recognize MemRE.
She hasn't thought about her little Membot in many, many decades.
It's you, she says surprised.
I thought you were all gone.
Well, it's very nice to see you again, but I have to go.
I can't be late for work.
She begins to hurry away.
And it is not until she is outside of her work building that she notices that MemRE has followed her all the way.
Keiko sighs, but she doesn't have time to shoo the little robot away.
She lets it follow her inside and hopes that no one will notice.
They walk and roll through a long corridor until they reach Keiko's desk.
Mem Re is surprised to see the word engineer written on Keiko's desk.
Its eyes brighten with joy, like a nightlight in a dark bedroom.
She looks nothing like the engineers that it once knew, but here she is.
Just the person it needed.
Mem-RE rolls around Keiko and pulls on her hand, trying to get her to follow it to the warehouse.
But Keiko stubbornly stays put and doesn't even try to listen to what Mem-RE wants to tell her.
Instead, She sits down and starts to work.
The sounds of all the office workers blend into one.
It is environmental and hypnotic.
MRE is momentarily transported into another world.
The clipping of staplers is like the chirping of cicadas.
The rustling of paper is like the wind through leaves.
The sips of coffee are like the flow of a fresh water stream.
It looks at Keiko. eager to see if she has been transported with it.
But when it looks into her eyes, it no longer sees the girl who once danced with a cherry blossom doll.
Her gaze is distant.
Mem-Re suddenly has another idea.
It opens up the door on its chest and reaches inside.
Still sitting there, untouched by the years, is Keiko's dolls.
Mem Re holds her in its hand for a second.
It remembers the day she was made.
It remembers how she flew and laughed and lay down on the grass.
It remembers as if it had been the one there with her, not Keiko.
MemRE doesn't want to give this memory up.
MemBots don't have childhoods.
They don't get to have memories like this one for themselves.
And Keiko doesn't even miss the memory.
She's an adult.
She's an engineer who wears grey suits now.
What is she going to do with the memory of a cherry blossom doll?
Even though it is sad to let it go, MemRE puts the doll down on Keiko's desk.
Keiko glances quickly at it, and then away again.
And then, the fog clears from in front of her eyes.
It is as if the sun has come out once again.
She looks back at the doll and her eyes go wide.
Oh, she says.
But she cannot say any more. because she is too busy remembering.
She remembers the smell of honey and green sap coming from the cherry blossoms over her head.
She remembers the dew of the grass as it brushes against her toes.
She remembers the hum of the flying insects.
And the blue of the sky.
And she remembers that she used to dance.
Then Keiko picks up the cherry blossom doll, holding her delicately.
And she remembers that the reason she wanted to be an engineer in the first place is because she wanted to make things.
She once wanted to be the kind of adult who could be friends with dolls and robots.
Why is she sitting behind this desk?
Why is she wearing this grey suit?
She stands up and looks at all of her colleagues in their desks next to her.
They all look so tired.
They all look like they have forgotten something important.
Keiko follows MemRE out of the office building.
They walk and they roll all the way across the little town to the MemBot warehouse.
Keiko looks around at all the hibernating Membots.
Somehow, even with their sleeping metal faces, they look just as tired as her colleagues did.
They all look like they have been forgotten.
Keiko takes off. her grey suit jacket and gets down on the floor next to Mem AA.
When she calls for a tool or for a light to be shone in the right spot, Mem RE is there to help her.
The night ends, and daylight comes, streaming through the warehouse window.
Keiko and MemRE are still working.
Then, night comes again, and Keiko stands up and dusts off her hands.
She looks at Mem R.E. and smiles.
Mem R.E. lovingly flashes its eyes back up at her.
In a little town, somewhere in the corner of the world, the grand clock strikes eleven o'clock.
And a flock of Membots wake up and roll out into the streets.
They find the people whose memories they took.
The gardener remembers the time when he raced over the hills.
The lawyer suddenly remembers his first kiss, gentle and hesitant.
The poet remembers her secret hideaway where she could read books by candlelight.
Banker remembers that she used to love to sing.
Keiko and Mem R.E. go to the middle of Wisteria Avenue.
Hand in hand.
They watch the residents shed their gray suits like pigeons dropping their old feathers.
The children remember that they still have time to be children, and so they run and laugh.
And the adults remember that growing up doesn't have to mean forgetting.
Keiko turns to Mem Re and bows deeply, thanking it for all that it did to remind her.
It doesn't matter that Mem-RE is only a robot.
It is also her friend.
By the time she stands up straight again, Mem-RE is already wandering off.
It has been distracted by the sight of the twinkling stars.
Keiko watches it go, and her heart fills with joy.
It is like someone is pouring stream water over her, drop by drop. she comes to life.
And with her cherry blossom doll in hand, she begins to dance.
Thank you.
