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Mutine.
Adjective.
Used to describe an individual whose spirit is unyielding, unconstrained.
One who navigates life on their own terms, effortlessly.
They do not always show up on time, but when they arrive, you notice.
An individual confident in their contradictions.
They know the rules, but behave as if they do not exist.
Mutine.
The new fragrance by Miu Miu.
Defined by you.
Welcome to Get Sleepy, where we listen, we relax, and we get sleepy.
I'm your host, Thomas.
Thank you so much for spending this time with me.
Tonight, we'll be returning to the world above, the magical realm in the clouds.
Previously, Clementine discovered a special book that enabled her to travel to the world above.
There she made new friends and saw all kinds of extraordinary things, from a steam train in the clouds to a chocolate lagoon.
In tonight's episode, Clementine returns to this whimsical place, and this time she's joined by her little brother.
I'll be reading it for you, and it was written by Shauna Marie.
If you enjoy tonight's tale and you'd like to hear the first episode from the series, you can find it on the Get Sleepy feed, released on June 17th 2024.
Now, as we settle down and prepare for rest.
Allow me to remind you that you deserve to be able to let go of all the demands of the day.
When you come to bed for a good night's rest, no one's expecting anything from you.
So use this time to get nice and comfortable and enjoy the support of your bed.
You can also take this time to gently release any lingering sense of pressure or responsibility.
Nothing is left to be done.
Even if you know there are things you didn't manage to get sorted today, the coming days or weeks will give you that opportunity to catch up.
For now, all you need to do is bring your attention to the present moment.
Focus on the slow and steady cycles of your breath.
The calm ambience of the space you're in.
Perhaps the soft feel of your bedding and the comforting embrace of your pillow supporting your head?
Here and now.
There is nothing required, nothing to ponder, only a sense of peace, stillness and comfort.
As you make space for these key ingredients for rest, your imagination can open up and visualize the sweet, magical story I'm about to tell.
In this other world amongst the clouds, gentle wonder and enjoyment is in store for us.
So simply follow the sound of my voice as we begin tonight's story and meet Clementine's little brother, Michael.
Michael rubbed his eyes, stumbled to his window, and pulled both of his bedroom curtains wide open.
All he could see were miles and miles of blue sky.
Occasionally, there was the sound of squawking seagulls and pesky pigeons.
The contents of the house jittered as a large gust of wind blew past.
The air seemed to whistle slightly as it moved to and fro with a whoosh.
For a moment, Michael blinked rapidly, almost expressionless.
And then, all at once, he was filled to the brim with delight.
He ran towards the bed and leapt, landing squarely on his sister, who was neatly folded in her sheets.
Wake up, Clementine, said Michael.
Clementine grunted and rolled over.
Michael's excitement nearly prevented him from speaking.
The house is in the sky, he said with a great big grin.
Clementine, now completely awake, threw the sheets off of her body and grabbed her little brother's hand.
Michael followed his sister as she charged out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
Each step let out a soft whine as the two went down.
The front door was now in sight.
The letterbox creaked as though it were chattering about something exciting.
Clementine and Michael placed their hands on the handle of their large yellow door and, after counting to three, they flung it wide open.
It had been exactly five o'clock in the afternoon on a Friday when Michael and Clementine's home uprooted itself like a vegetable and gradually ascended toward the sky.
Its yellow shutters had flapped and the contents of its kitchen cupboards had rolled on their sides, and Michael, wrapped tightly in his sister's embrace, had slept.
Now, the two children were awake, and utterly awestruck.
They stood beside each other, hands tightly clasped, relishing in the moment.
Far off in that expansive distance, the two spotted the beginnings of golden hour.
The sun barely lit the edges of the sky, spreading over the heavens like a jar of honey.
Michael tugged on the sleeve of Clementine's shirt and whispered that it was better than the stories.
Every night Clementine would read stories to Michael, stories from the blue book entitled The World Above.
Michael would never tire of hearing about the first time she'd traveled to the place of the same name, the realm in the clouds called the world above.
And he loved hearing about how she'd found the book in the first place in Frederick's marvelous bookshop.
The world above was no ordinary book.
It was the kind of book where the illustrations would move like a real person, or the words would nearly dance off the page in excitement, or the pages themselves would glow and dim as you turned them.
The best part was that the stories changed every night.
Michael had a large appetite for the way of life and the traditions of magical worlds.
He could recite every species of toadstool well as many as he could remember.
And he could recall every land in the world above that.
He knew of every magical creature, and so on.
Clementine would read until her brother's breaths were deep and soft.
Then she would pull the bedsheet so it rested just beneath his chin And finally, being overwhelmed with love, she would plant a kiss in the middle of his forehead.
Clementine wasn't to know that on most of these occasions, Michael was actually wide awake.
She would slide off his bed and wander towards her bedroom, always remembering to switch off the hallway light.
Meanwhile, Michael would lie there awake, somewhat impatient.
Any minute now, he would think.
With a whoosh, a gust of magical wind would blow through London.
Michael would grab his spectacles off the nightstand and clamber to the window ledge.
Outside, the yellow of Clementine's raincoat glistened in the moonlight as she gripped on to her matching yellow umbrella.
The moon would glow in its pale fullness, and the stars would twinkle, almost winking.
In Michael's room, one of the smaller windows close to the ceiling was partially cracked open.
Through it came the smallest amount of magical wind.
Each time the books on Michael's shelf would shuffle, the games on his floor would move and his pale blue curtains would sway.
And in the street, ever so gradually, Clementine would rise.
Holding on to her yellow umbrella, she would fly to the world above.
And she did this not just once, but many times in a month.
If Michael ever doubted that it was indeed his sister, he simply peered at the figure's, and he would always spot the hem of Clementine's blue and white striped pyjamas swaying gently in the wind.
Each time this occurred, Michael would be hooked by the prospect of infinite adventure.
He would wait until his sister rose so far and so high that he could no longer see her.
Even then, his hands remained clasped and his knees still bent on the cushioned windowsill, while his eyes were a little misty from wonder.
But at last, he would yawn.
The thrill of his excitement was always mellowed by the need for sleep.
And so, the boy would clamber onto his bed.
Swathes of moonlight would paint his floor, walls and blankets.
The boy would wish on a shooting star for the only things it made sense to want.
A safe journey for his sister, enough bedtime stories for the rest of his life and an adventure of his own one day.
And for a moment, everything was still.
He felt his body relax entirely as he drifted off into slumber.
The day before Clementine and Michael's home was plucked from the earth, Clementine didn't visit the world above.
Instead, she and Michael lay on their bellies on Michael's bed, with the duvet pulled over their heads, reading as many stories as they could, collecting lore and tales as if they were pennies at the bottom of a wishing well.
Time ticked away, and Michael's bedroom, once awash in grey and blue, warmed in the orange sun.
They only awoke from their slumber when their mother and father called them from downstairs.
The two sleepy-eyed children wandered down the stairs and discovered that their parents would be out for the evening.
Clementine, being the oldest, was in charge.
Shortly afterwards, their parents left and Michael and Clementine went back to bed.
It was no wonder the children felt nothing as they slept.
When the house swayed, it did so gently.
And when it needed to stop, it did so gradually.
Now the large yellow front door swung from side to side.
The children stood in disbelief as the wind blew through their clothes, down the hallway and through the rest of the house.
Michael stuck his head out the door.
His hair flickered back and forth across his face.
Yes, he thought, sky in every direction.
Clementine guided her curious brother back inside and instructed him to pack a bag.
Michael nodded and disappeared up the stairs.
As Clementine stuck her head out the door, she had the same thought as her brother.
Sky in every direction.
With a smile, she closed the door.
Moments later, streams of clouds forced their way into the house through the open windows.
Michael was beside himself with confusion.
They looked like clouds, but they didn't feel like clouds.
And they were pink.
Clementine explained that it was candy floss and that he should get his things together.
They were close.
It was at that moment that the children felt the house sink down.
Outside, they heard the sound of someone chatting excitedly.
Michael pushed his feet into his shoes and looked at the letterbox.
He asked if it was the one making the noise.
The letterbox lifted and shut in protest.
Then there was another sound.
Knock, knock, knock.
The two children looked at each other, slightly confused.
The chattering continued.
Clementine twisted the door handle and pulled it open.
Isn't it just marvelous, said Timothy.
Look, your entire home here in the world above.
Clementine looked at the boy.
Though Timothy had guided her through her first visit to the world above and many visits after that, she still found him to be rather strange.
Before Clementine could respond, Michael tugged on her sleeve.
With the soft voice of a mouse.
He said that maybe it was a good thing that their house had travelled to the world above.
After all, they wouldn't both be able to fit on Clementine's umbrella.
Clementine's expression soon melted into a smile.
Maybe you're right, she said, ruffling her brother's hair.
Timothy stared at the two siblings beside himself with wonder.
But the two boys had never actually met.
Timothy smiled and stretched out his hand in preparation for a handshake.
But Michael shook his head.
A look of realization swept over Timothy, and he lifted his palms.
In the books he had read about the world below, he'd learned that people did something called a high five.
Michael chuckled and returned the gesture.
Then he went in search of the world above book.
It was hiding in a tuft of candy floss.
A small note slipped out of the book as Michael flicked from cover to cover.
Without a moment's hesitation, he bent down and picked it up.
The note read, Hello Michael, welcome to the world above.
I'm sure you're going to have a wonderful time here.
Remember, Timothy is here to answer any questions you may have.
Try to keep up, he is a very fast talker.
And to get around.
Well, Timothy will explain.
Good luck.
Michael smiled and tucked the note in his pocket.
Timothy was pleasantly surprised that the travelling winds had not only transported Clementine, but Michael as well.
He said that they had a wonderful adventure in store, and that everyone should close their eyes.
Clementine nodded and copied Timothy, closing her eyes.
Timothy cleared his throat and whispered that everyone had to do it or they'd be stuck.
Michael huffed and eventually copied the other two children.
A moment later they heard a choo-choo sound and then again Choo-choo.
A steam train steadily chugged towards the three of them.
Michael turned to look behind.
The house had been replaced with a train station, and next to him was a sign in bold letters that read PICKUP POINT.
Michael nearly had to be lifted onto the train.
He had taken a liking to watching his feet sink into the candy floss like it was snow.
The doors closed and the train gradually began to pick up speed as the three were whisked away to their next destination.
Settled in their seats, the children chatted away.
Timothy was delighted that he had found someone who was just as invested in the wide variety of toadstools in the world above.
But soon.
The conversation with Michael was being conducted in between sighs and yawns To Clementine.
The surroundings were familiar.
All the mahogany, the gold inlaid in the wood panelling, and the plush seats and wide windows.
Michael peered at the wood in the cabin.
It was the color of caramel, but his fatigue dampened the desire to sink his teeth into it.
Meanwhile, clickety-clack went the train, continuous and soft.
The train wheels rolled over the spaces in the tracks.
And it became the strangest of lullabies.
Clickety-clack, clickety-clack.
Timothy, Michael and Clementine sank heavily into their plush seats.
To and fro the carriage went.
Not so harshly as to stir the three, but just enough to rock them into sweet slumber.
All that could be heard were the gentle sighs of the three children as they kicked off their shoes, lay on their sides and tucked their knees close to their chests.
Michael and Clementine shared a seat, while Timothy laid down on the opposite one.
When he peeked at the brother and sister, he realized that they were shivering.
So he snapped his fingers and three woollen blankets draped themselves over each child.
Michael opened an eye and looked at Timothy.
Thank you, he whispered, before closing his eyes once more and drifting back to sleep.
Sometime later, Michael awoke.
He glanced out the window at the ever-unraveling tufts of pink fog.
Something small and light glowed on the outside edge of the window.
It glowed brighter and brighter and brighter still.
Then it teetered along the edge of the train window and began to float away as though it were a speck of dust.
Michael grabbed the world above book and gently shook Timothy and Clementine to wake them up.
They gradually rose from their slumber.
Clementine called for her brother, but he had already stepped off the train and into a foreign, exciting land.
Timothy and Clementine looked at each other, and an excitement began to brew within them.
Timothy stood and held out his hand, as he had done so many times before.
Clementine smiled and grasped it, feeling the call of adventure.
Hand in hand, the boy and girl wandered off the train.
Standing just in front was Michael, who turned to face the two of them and gestured for them to follow.
The smell of pine and oak filled Clementine's nose.
She could barely see beyond the dense foliage of the bushes and trees, which were so green they seemed almost artificial.
As Clementine ran through the trees, she brushed her hands against their bark.
To her amazement, the wood flaked off into her hand in crumbly pieces.
Hanging off the trees were pieces of fruit that looked so deliciously scrumptious.
Pears, apples, and mangoes.
Big, glowing, and rich.
Just as Clementine began to approach one of the trees, Michael and Timothy stopped in their tracks.
A spot of light began to glow in the distance as gradually as the sun set, warm, gentle and hazy.
Then another light, and another.
The lights drifted back and forth on the horizon.
The children couldn't help but move closer.
Clementine plucked a large, low-hanging mango and joined the other children.
They stood shoulder to shoulder, enraptured by the display.
With breathless excitement, Timothy said that they were at Fairy Hill, or the Land of the Fairies.
And then, all of a sudden, something appeared on Michael's shoulder the small, glowing figure of a woman.
Clementine looked closer and saw that the creature had wings.
The fairy balanced on Michael's shoulder and then hopped closer near his neck.
She whispered something into his ear.
Michael chuckled and said that, yes, the other two were friendly.
As the fairy giggled, a warm light poured all over the forest, which was greater than any the children had ever seen.
And they saw that they were indeed on top of a hill.
The slope of Fairy Hill was dotted with wide looming trees of all varieties.
Each was hollowed out to make little homes for the fairies.
The same decorative features repeated across the landscape mushrooms of every color, fallen trees that were also hollowed and covered in moss, tiny wooden shutters and brightly colored window panes.
The fairy, once a small glowing thing, now morphed into a full-sized human.
She shrugged her shoulders slightly, and her wings, dainty and translucent, folded shut.
The three children were taken aback.
Just like the fairy, the world above book began to glow brightly.
Michael felt the warmth grow in his palms.
He opened the book and watched a small line of printed text appear along the top of the page.
It said, and the fairy godmother met Clementine, Michael and Timothy on Fairy Hill.
She granted them safe travels and permission to eat the fruit of any tree they desired.
An illustration of the three children and the fairy godmother appeared below the text in gorgeous, saturated color.
Michael grinned at the fairy godmother, who smiled back.
She said that she wouldn't keep them for long because the clock was ticking and soon they needed to get back home.
Timothy stood next to Michael, in awe of the open book with its new words and illustration.
Clementine had already left the two boys and wandered over to a tree.
She plucked another large mango, admiring its size.
It didn't even fit in her hand.
Clementine glanced at the fairy godmother for permission, who simply winked at the three children and fluttered away.
Needing no more invitation, Clementine sunk her teeth into the fruit.
So sweet was the flavor, it was quite an experience.
After closing the book, Michael slid it into his rucksack and the two boys approached Clementine.
Michael grinned at his sister and then stood perplexed as he glanced around the forest.
There were all kinds of fruits, fruits that Michael couldn't name and which certainly didn't grow in England.
Timothy had already taken on the task of climbing a palm tree.
Clementine paused from eating, and she and Michael looked up.
Timothy sat casually on one of the large, waxy leaves of the palm tree, and he hollered, Look out below!
Three huge coconuts tumbled through the leaves and down the trunk.
They landed gently on the lush grass with a plop.
Timothy slid down the tree and the three of them crowded around the coconuts.
The sun in Fairy Hill was beginning to set.
Looking at the coconuts, Michael scratched his head.
How were they going to move and open three massive coconuts?
Timothy grinned and clicked his fingers.
He knocked the coconuts on their sides, told everyone to spin around three times and then clapped his hands.
To the siblings' surprise, the coconuts shrank, then popped open.
Timothy reached into his very deep pockets and pulled out three straws one yellow for Clementine, one blue for Michael and one green for himself.
The three children greedily sucked on their straws until they heard a familiar sound the gentle hum of the train's engine.
It was time to travel to their next destination, and soon they found themselves back in the plush seats of the train, quietly enjoying the contents of their coconuts.
The liquid was slightly thicker than the consistency of water and it was cool, refreshing and sweet.
Michael said he didn't even need to know what he was drinking because, whatever it was, it tasted heavenly.
Clementine and Timothy laughed so suddenly, they both blew bubbles in their drinks.
Just as before, the children were entranced by the unraveling of the cotton candy beyond the window.
Their voices became quieter as the movements of the train mellowed their excitable natures.
And once more, shoes were kicked off and blankets were spread over their small bodies.
Every once in a while, a gold self-service trolley would roll back and forth through the train.
It would stop by each cabin and let out a little squeak, as if to say, would you like anything?
Seeing that it was supper time, the children collected bowl after bowl of stew and roast, dinner with gravy and cake and custard.
The trolley returned to collect their bowls and then scutted away to their next cabin.
Moments after, the children arrived at their destination.
A strong wind swayed the train back and forth.
The children wandered outside, away from the lingering smell of cake and roast dinner.
Clementine looked up and saw a tall, long brown object There was no going around it.
It was as long as the train, and the train was rather lengthy.
Michael asked if he could poke it.
Clementine frowned and said that he shouldn't.
She turned to Timothy and asked if he had any ideas.
But before he could respond, the object began to move.
Was it breathing?
Michael looked at Clementine and Timothy.
He had poked it.
Clementine grabbed the boy's hands as the three braced themselves to run.
But then, all of a sudden, they heard booming laughter and they looked up.
Timothy started laughing too.
It was Pemble, the giant.
Clementine smiled as she remembered.
Once, a very long time ago, Pemble's giant daughter had mistaken her for a toy and Pemble had intervened.
Afterwards, it even got her on the right path home.
Clementine tilted her head.
Pemble was lying down, which was most certainly the reason that she had not recognized him.
Pemble said that it was lovely to see Timothy and Clementine again, and to meet little Michael.
The giant rolled onto his side and propped up his head with his arm.
He said that after work he liked to come down to the valley and watch the tiny trains pass through the land of the giants.
But this time, he had accidentally fallen asleep.
While Timothy, Clementine and Pemble reunited, Michael dug into his bag for the world above book.
He opened its creamy, thick pages, and an illustration appeared on one of them.
It was a moving image of Timothy and Clementine, on either side of Pemble's shoulders, travelling through different lands.
Michael remembered Clementine telling this story.
He closed the book and looked up at the giant.
Pemble was explaining that he had to collect something from the Land of Dreams.
He wondered if the three children would like to join him.
Michael looked at his older sister with pleading eyes, as did Timothy.
Glancing at the setting sun, Clementine relented.
She said that maybe they had time for one more adventure.
So, one by one, the children hopped into Pemble's very large hand.
And from there, they were lifted onto his shoulder.
Just as he had done a long time ago, Timothy pointed out every town, city, and land.
Clementine and Michael were amazed at how much there was left to learn about the world above, and they listened attentively.
Timothy drew the siblings' attention to what was here, there, and everywhere.
Clementine couldn't help but chuckle at her friend.
Being a giant.
Pemble's strides were rather huge and they were in the land of dreams in no time at all.
Pemble set the three children on a cloud, and a smile appeared on his wide, round face.
He said he needed to visit a certain town in the Land of Dreams, and that he would be back soon.
The children nodded and thanked him for the journey.
As the giant walked away, his chuckles could still be heard from quite a distance.
While the children waited for Pemble's return, they decided to explore their surroundings.
Just as Michael suspected, The clouds tasted of candy floss.
Though regrettably, he was so full from supper, he could only eat a single bite.
There were ladders in between the clouds that could be climbed on.
Timothy chose the cloud at the top.
So the three climbed the ladders until they reached Timothy's favorite cloud.
It was separated into three stripes of pastel colors, yellow, blue, and green.
Each child chose their favorite color and laid out flat like a pancake.
There were only multicolored clouds as far as their eyes could see.
And the sky, well, it was no longer blue.
It was tinged both pink and orange.
Timothy was beginning to explain that the clouds could induce different dreams.
But before long, sleep claimed him, and then it claimed Michael and Clementine too.
The world above book flipped itself open to a page where there was an illustration of the land of dreams.
And without being asked, the book began to play a lullaby.
The children's breaths became deep and soft, and they slept beneath a multicolored sky.
Pemble soon returned to find three sleeping children.
He gently plucked the cloud from the sky and smiled down at them.
I'll get you home, he said softly.
And with only a few strides Pemble arrived at Treehouse Town, where he placed Timothy in the arms of his mother.
And with a few more strides, Pemble arrived at the edge of the world, above where Clementine and Michael's house had landed.
As if it were a doll's house, Pemble opened a window.
He then placed the children on the bed in Michael's room and covered them with the duvet.
Pemble shut the window, softly touched the house on its side, and said, you know what to do.
The shutters and the letterbox opened and shut in response and the house sank in the clouds descending through the sky.
Just as before, when the house swayed, it did so gently.
And with a soft thud, it landed exactly where it had been built.
Michael and Clementine's parents arrived home to sleeping children.
Their father was sure he had spotted a flying house with a yellow door on their way home.
But it must have been his imagination.
He dismissed the thought entirely and left his children to sleep.
And in the early hours of the morning The world above book slid out of Michael's bag and flipped to a blank page.
A small line of printed text appeared at the top.
Thank you for visiting, Michael and Clementine.
We can't wait to have you again.
But for now, dear children, sleep well.
Thank you.
Thank you.
