Get Sleepy: Sleep meditation and stories - Encore #3: Daria's Daydream

Episode Date: July 17, 2026

Narrator: Thomas Jones 🇬🇧 Writer: Shady Grove Oliver ✍️ Sound effects: rainy city ambience 🌧️ 🏙️   Welcome back, sleepyheads. Tonight, taken from the archives of late 2020, we’ll follow a girl named Daria into a magical daydream on a rainy morning. 😴 Get Sleepy Premium Listen completely ad-free and access our entire catalogue of stories and meditations by subscribing to our ⁠⁠⁠premium feed.⁠⁠⁠ Your support means the world to us and makes it possible to keep the show running! ❤️ Get your 7-day free trial: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠getsleepy.com/support⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠.⁠⁠⁠ Connect Stay up to date on all our news and even vote on upcoming episodes! Website: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠slumberstudios.com/getsleepy/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Facebook: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠facebook.com/getsleepypod/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Instagram: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠instagram.com/getsleepypod/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Our Apps Redeem exclusive unlimited access to Premium content for 1 month FREE in our mobile apps built by the Get Sleepy and Slumber Studios team: Deep Sleep Sounds: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠deepsleepsounds.com/getsleepy/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Slumber: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠slumber.fm/getsleepy/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ FAQs Have a query for us or need help with something? You might find your answer here:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Get Sleepy FAQs⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ About Get Sleepy Get Sleepy is the #1 storytelling podcast designed to help you get a great night’s rest. By combining sleep meditations with a relaxing bedtime story, each episode will guide you gently towards sleep. Thank you so much for listening! Feedback? Let us know your thoughts! ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠slumberstudios.com/contact-us/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. Get Sleepy is a production of Slumber Studios. Check out our podcasts, apps, and more at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠slumberstudios.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠. That’s all for now. Sweet dreams ❤️ 😴 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Get Sleepy is a production of Slumber Studios. To listen, add free, access our entire catalogue of episodes and support the show directly. Check out our premium feed by going to get sleepy.com slash support. Now, a quick word from our sponsors. This episode is brought to you by FIFA World Cup, launch edition on Netflix. It's a fast, fluid game where your phone is. the controller and your TV is the stadium. You just launch it on your TV, scan the QR code with your phone, and boom, you're shooting

and passing in seconds. Plus, it's included in your Netflix membership with zero extra costs. Go to the Games tab and play FIFA World Cup launch edition now, only on Netflix. Hey everyone, welcome to Get Sleepy. When we listen, we relax, and... we get sleepy. I'm your host, Thomas. Thanks so much for joining us. Tonight's episode from the archives was first released in October of 2020. So of course, as with a lot of these older encore episodes, my voice may sound a little bit different, written by our

amazing head writer and editor and even more incredible friends. friend Shady Grove Oliver, it's one of our shared all-time favourites on the show. Perfect get-sleepy coziness. We'll follow a girl named Darya into a magical daydream on a rainy morning. So, ensure you're nice and cozy in your bed. Allow your eyes to close if you're yet to do so. And let's join Darya. on a rainy day in her city.

This is where our story begins. Rainstorms made for long days in the city. It was summer and Daria was out of school. So she had to find ways of occupying her time. On a normal day, she'd walk to the park across the street. or visit a friend and go to the ice cream shop on the corner. But today, the rain beat down on the tall brick buildings and turned the cement sidewalks, an even darker shade of grey.

There would be no going outside in weather like this. So, instead, she took up her favourite seat by the window and watched the heavy droplets patter on the glass. By now, Darya was used to living in a city and having the sights and sounds of the busy streets to keep her company from morning until night. In her parents' third-floor apartment, she would often pull back the gauzy curtains

and peer out the large window to the sidewalk below. low. Even on sunny days, she liked to take a peek every once in a while. She knew all of the regular passers-by. There was the woman who always carried a folded newspaper under her arm as she rushed to work, and the man who walked his white miniature poodle to the park at noon. A little later in the day came the boy with the red hair, who was always laughing with his friends when he passed her street. Every summer day, these people would appear like clockwork. She could mark the passage of time by their footsteps.

She enjoyed watching them too. As the weeks went by, she grew a sort of kinship with them. She liked to imagine them going on adventures, or visiting magical places together. It was fun to think of herself out of the city, flying high over the walls of a castle on a dragon's back, or rowing a boat across an endless ocean. She thought of these strangers as her friends.

She knew the way they walked, how some stepped over puddles, or splashed straight through. She knew the little yipping barks of the poodle if it spotted a neighbourhood cat on one of the park benches. She'd seen them all laugh or smile or frown slightly if they were lost in thought. On this particular morning, it was still early

so the woman with the newspaper hadn't arrived yet. Daria had just enough time to fix herself a cup of tea and settle down to watch. She hopped off the seat and walked into the kitchen where her mother was doing a crossword puzzle. Daria pressed the button on the kettle and heard the hissing sound as it began to heap the water. She reached up into the cupboard above and pulled down her favourite cup. It was made of white china and had little purple flowers that paraded around the edge in a circle. She'd noticed it years ago in the window of a shop and found it wrapped up for her birthday a few months later.

She chose a tea bag, lemon and ginger, and hung the tassel over the rim of the cup. the water wasn't finished boiling yet, so she picked up the tea bag by its little paper label and let it swing back and forth like a pendulum. As it moved through the air, she caught whiffs of the spicy ginger and a sweet, citrusy hint of dried lemon peel. Moments later, the button on the kettle clicked. She placed the tea bag back in the cup and carefully poured the hot water over it. A puff of steam rose from the tea and left a slight dampness on Darya's cheeks. With her drink in hand, Darya left her mother to her puzzle and made her way back to the window seat. She placed the cup gently on the window seal and picked up a sky-blue cushion resting against the wall. She set it on the wooden seat

and scooted back onto it. The little flat pillow was softer to sit on and made her just tall enough to get a clear view down to the street. Using her fingertips, she lifted the curtain and pulled it around the back of her head, like a scarf. Inside, it was like her own personal bubble of fabric. The curtains sat gently against her hair and ruffled it lightly when she moved. She liked to feel as though it was just her and the window, and her little cup. Free to dream as they pleased. She brought her nose up almost to the glass. but didn't touch it. She didn't want to leave any smudges that might obscure her view outside.

As she breathed though, little clouds of condensation appeared and disappeared on the glass. Like a cloud at the bottom of her vision, Darya picked up her teacup and took a sip. She liked the first touch of the glass. liked the first touch of the liquid on her tongue, she tasted a burst of lemon, followed by the warming sensation of ginger on the back of her throat. She took a second sip and then carefully placed it back on the window sill. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw her. The woman with the paper tucked under her arm. The first thing she noticed was the tip of her boot as she stepped out from behind the building on the right.

Darian knew that boot well. It was a deep turquoise with a rounded front. She'd never seen boots like that before and admired them very much. As she did every morning, the woman walked quickly, weaving around the large puddles that had pulled on the curb, wanting to get a better glimpse of the woman. Daria brought her face even closer to the glass. She breathed in once and then out very slowly. As she tried to concentrate, as she let out her breath, the glass began to fog.

It started in the corner, just out of her line of sight. The fog grew and grew, sending tendrils up higher and higher on the window, until they snaked across her view. As they spread, the tendrils of condensation widened and blurred together to become a single cloud of rolling fog. Darya watched in awe as the clear window transformed into a pane of frosted glass before her eyes. Of course, this made it hard for her to see the street. She slowly reached out her hand toward the window to wipe it clear.

When her fingertips touched the glass, she felt the strange sensation of floating. Like her body had become untethered from the cushion beneath her. Through the window pane, she saw a blurry speck of colour off in the distance. As she concentrated, the speck grew larger. It was as though she were moving toward it, and it came into focus as she neared. Then her vision cleared, and she found herself, standing on a well-worn path. What had been the familiar park across the street was now a wide

expanse of grass. Behind it, she saw the thick stone walls of a castle jutting up to the sky. A little brown cat flicked its tail at her from a rectangular ledge cut into the wall. It was the same thing. It was the same cat that often napped on the park bench back home. It was no longer raining, but the sky above was overcast and heavy clouds moved off in the distance. The grass around her feet was damp, a last reminder of the passing storm. From behind her, Daria heard the crunch of boots upon the rough dirt path, she turned and was surprised to find herself staring at a tall knight. The knight wore a silver suit of armour that glistened with raindrops, already starting to dry. The knight's features were hidden behind a sturdy, metal faceplate, but what caught Darya's attention

were the knight's boots. They were metal like the rest of the outfit, but they had been painted a deep turquoise. How strange Darya thought. She had never seen a knight with blue boots before. The knight reached up and removed the sturdy helmet to reveal a woman's face. Long chestnut hair cascaded down her back.

Daria gasped. How could this be? This was the woman who rushed to work every morning with her newspaper. And judging by the look on her face, she was in the middle of something very important. The woman cleared her throat and fixed a steady gaze on Daria. I am Esther, knight-errant of this land, she said. I am on an important quest on behalf of the king.

How amazing, Darya thought. She'd never met a real knight before. She beamed up at the woman standing in front of her. Esther pulled a damp-looking scroll from under her arm, and unfurled it in one swift motion. She leaned down and handed the crinkled brown paper to Darya. Have you seen this dog? she asked. Daria studded the paper carefully.

On it was a sketch of an animal she knew well. It was a small, white poodle with a little blue bow on its head. The very same poodle she saw walking in the park every day at noon. Daria nodded as she returned the scroll. I do know the dog, but I haven't seen it since yesterday during lunch, she said. The night sighed and shook her head. The dog had managed to escape the king's chambers just after breakfast. Since then, everyone in the castle had been looking for it. The Royal Cobbler checked his

workshop to make sure the poodle wasn't chewing on any shoes. The cooks checked the pantry to make sure it wasn't snacking on the Sunday roast. Daria giggled. Imagining the poodle running through the halls with a shoe and a saucer of gravy in its mouth. The knight looked down at the girl and smiled. Her eyes twinkling, would you like to help me with my quest? She asked Darya. Darya's eyes widened as she nodded. How exciting, she thought, to join a knight on her very first quest. Esther took Darya's small hand in her own, and together they began to walk toward the castle. As they walked, Darya looked from left to right, searching for the miniature poodle.

She saw nothing in the green grass, near or far, and nothing on the path ahead. This way had been marked by many years of feet. which had slowly worn the ground, slightly lower than the grass around it. The earth beneath her shoes had been packed hard by countless people coming to the castle, and probably by a few dogs too, she thought. They walked for several minutes. The path began to curve slightly down toward the castle walls. As they approached, Daria realised the giant stone wall in front of her was not actually part of the castle itself,

but rather surrounded the main buildings. It was tall and formidable, and would definitely keep out all but the most determined or welcome guests. Cut into the stone a little way ahead was a large wooden door, with iron beams and a heavy black knocker. When they arrived at the door, Daria reached up and took the knocker in both hands. She pulled it back and then released it. It made a bang as it hit the wood beneath it. Almost as soon as she heard the sound, a little slat opened just above Darya's head.

Who's there? called a voice from behind the door. Daria couldn't see who it was, as all she could make out through the slat, was a pair of curious eyes. The knight straightened up in her armour and called out in a commanding voice. I am Knight Esther, she said, motioning to Daria. I am here with a friend. We've come to find the king. dog. Daria heard the wood begin to creak as the door slowly moved on its hinges, once it was open wide enough for them to pass through. Daria and the night walked into the castle grounds. Once they were inside, the door swung shut behind them. Daria found herself in a place like

no other. Between the wall and the castle itself, there was a wide-open market square. Here and there were stalls full of fruits and vegetables, pots, pans and clothing. People hurried to and fro on errands between different parts of the castle. Daria watched as a man in a blue shirt, carried a load of washing down a flight of stone steps. Nearby, a woman gently herded a flock of geese across the open square. One of the geese looked up at Daria as it waddled past and honked loudly. Daria laughed and waved to the goose, wishing it well wherever it was going. Out of the corner of her eye, something caught to the goose. her attention. It was small and white. She let go of the night's hand and ran over to investigate.

She followed the white blur into a blacksmith's shop. Inside, a man in a dark apron was using a large hammer to flatten some type of metal object. Although one side of the shop was open to the outside. It was warmer here than Daria had expected. The air was steamy and she felt her cheeks begin to flush. She looked to the corner where the little white animal had run. But all she saw was a cat, swishing its tail back and forth. It had come here to nap in the warmth of the shop. something Daria thought she might like to do. She sighed. She hadn't found the king's dog yet,

and there would be no napping until she did. The blacksmith wished her luck and went back to his work, pounding the metal into shape. Daria walked over to the night. They had to come up with a plan to find the king's dog. Otherwise, they could end up chasing cats into corners all afternoon, she thought. From under her arm, the night Esther pulled a second scroll. She opened it up to reveal a detailed map of the castle grounds.

Esther handed it to Darya, who scrutinized it carefully. The best way to find the dog would be to split up and check. different parts of the castle, she said. Esther agreed. The knight said she would stay in the square and talk to everyone who passed, while Darya would go into the castle itself and search room by room. After all, she was smaller than the knight and could fit into all the little hiding places a miniature poodle might go. Daria crossed the market square and walked over to the castle doors. There was a guard outside.

Like the night, he was wearing a full suit of armour. She tapped on his hand and he looked down at her. My name is Daria, she told him. I'm here to find the king's dog. The guard stepped aside and welcomed her to the castle, wishing her luck with her quest. Daria found herself standing at the start of a long hallway. The walls were made of white stone, which came together in a wide arch far above her head. On them were brightly coloured tapestries that hung from horizontal wooden rods, a fit

to the stone. They depicted famous stories of all the greatest knights doing glorious quests in the name of the kingdom. A yellow tapestry showed a knight in a silver suit of armour, holding a golden chalice filled with rubies. A blue one just beside it had a rider on a horse, leaping over a river of ice, but the green one on the end was Darya's favourite. It showed Esther, her friend, holding her sword high above her head. She was standing atop a mountain of gold treasure in the middle of a dragon's lair. Esther must be a very brave knight, Darya thought to herself, as she wandered through the hallway. As she passed below the tapestries, she brought with her a slight breeze, which rustled the

tassels hanging off the bottom edges of the fabric. She marvelled as they moved and caught the light, their golden thread glistening like sparks. At the end of the hall, Daria came to a forked path. On one side there was the entrance to a small room. On the other there was a doorway which led to another narrow hall leading deeper into the castle. She chose the small room first. She pushed open the heavy wooden door and peered inside.

It was a food storage area with sacks of grain and flour stacked against the wall. She didn't think the dog would be in his. here. But it couldn't hurt to check. She peaked behind the sacks and inside the large wooden barrels lined up under the window. She was right. The dog wasn't there. Daria closed the door behind her and took the other fork toward the narrow hallway. This one was lined with doors. Each led to a different room on this level of the castle. Daria figured she should look in each one, just to be sure. She pushed open the door to the first room. This was where the court tailor kept her fabrics. On long shelves which lined the walls were stacks and stacks of richly coloured silks and

satins. There were greens and blues and reds of all shades. Grograin ribbons were piled on one shelf, and there were delicate bowls of buttons on another. There were collars and lace, threads and cords, and snaps. But there was no dog. In the next room, she found where the music teacher kept his instruments. There was a large grand piano, polished to a shine. There was a violin, a viola and a cello, and several different woodwinds. There were stacks and stacks of crisp white music sheets, covered in delicate black notes, but there was still no dog. The third room she came, came to was clearly for the children of the castle. There were delicately carved wooden toys and rocking horses in three different sizes. She climbed atop the largest horse and gave it

a rock back and forth for good measure. She giggled as its mane made of yarn brushed against her fingertips. She would love to stay and play in this room. longer. But she was assisting a night on a very important quest. She'd have to save the nursery for another day. In the fourth room she found the castle library. Books with thick leather bindings stood at attention on dark mahogany shelves. Daria loved the smell of this room. was the familiar scent of well-worn pages and old books that made her want to curl up on a chair and read all afternoon she'd have to remember to come back here once she'd found the dog perhaps there was a book of fairy tales or one about a girl on a quest just like her now that would be fun to

read, she thought. As she stood in the library, thinking about where to look next, she heard the faint sound of splashing, accompanied by the joyful laugh of another child. What could that be? She wondered. She closed the door behind her and traced the sounds to a little room at the end of the narrow Hall. Daria pushed open the door. And there, to her surprise, she found someone she recognised. It was the boy with the red hair who passed by her building every afternoon. He had a wide grin on his face, and his clothing and arms were covered in soap suds. His name was Edgar, he said. She followed the trail of suds, downedges' arm, to a large porcelain bath. Inside was a damp, but fluffy, white poodle, with a blue bow on its head.

It was the king's dog, she realized. We've been looking everywhere for you, Darya said to the poodle, who wagged its tail happily through the bathwater. Edgar explained that the king had asked him to give the poodle a wash earlier that week. The king must have forgotten, Darya said. He thought the dog was lost when he couldn't find it after breakfast. But it wasn't missing after all. It was just having a much-needed bath.

We must tell the king, she said, as though on command the poodle hoarse. popped out of the bath and waited to be dried off. Edgar took a soft white towel from a rack behind him and patted the dog down gently. Then Darya picked up the poodle and carried it out into the hallway. Edgar led the way through the castle to the large throne room at its centre. There, the king sat on the most impressive throne Darya had ever seen. It was shiny and silver and studded with gemstones. To her surprise, the king was the very same man who walked this poodle through the park each day.

She never would have imagined he was royalty. But looks can be deceiving. she thought to herself. After all, people might not think someone like Darya would be helping a knight with a quest. But here she was. The king smiled warmly as Darya and Edgar entered the room. Without stretched arms, he took the poodle from her and hugged it tightly, being sure to give it a few extra scratches behind its ears. He thanked Darya and told her she had successfully finished the most important quest the kingdom had ever seen.

In spite of her excitement, Darya yawned. It had been a very long day after all, seeing how tired she was. The king said she was welcomed to now. in one of the royal bedrooms until it was time for dinner. It would be a feast in her honour, of course, as the rescuer of the royal poodle. He motioned for a woman in a pressed white dress to show Darya to her room. She was grateful for the offer. She followed the woman to a beautiful bedchamber. There was a large bed with rich purple satin sheets. She ran her hand over the sheets

and admired how silky they were beneath her fingertips. She hopped onto the bed which was almost as tall as she was and slipped down between the covers. She wiggled her toes and found they only reached halfway down the length of the bed. This truly made Darya feel like a princess. She pulled the sheets up to her chin and snuggled deeper into them. As she lay there, she felt her eyelids begin to grow heavy and let them close. How cozy it was in here, in this big bed in the castle. The dog was safe and sound, and she'd helped a real knight, who was now her friend. She'd met the boy with the red hair, and the man who walked in the park, and the woman with the newspaper, whose name was Esther. They were all so familiar. She'd watched them countless times

from her perch on the seat by the third-story window in her parents' apartment. Her mind wandered from happy thought to happy thought. She remembered the smell of the lemon and ginger tea and the feeling of her fingertips on the foggy glass. She could almost hear her mother, calling her for supper as she drifted off to sleep.