The Crime Of The Century Podcast

[Verse 1 - The Gallery]

The walls are breathing.

Very slow. Very quiet.

Like a sleeping thing.

Most people do not notice.

They are too busy looking.

[Verse 2 - The Wanting]

They want to buy. They

want to take the paintings home.

They hang them above

their sofas, very high up.

But paintings need to breathe, I think.

[Verse 3 - The Watcher]

You are standing still.

Like a tree that is keeping

a secret from the wind.

You do not want to interrupt.

You just watch the light change.

[Verse 4 - The Practicing]

I am practicing

for noticing. It is hard.

Harder than it looks.

I was born paying attention

to the small things. The tiny things.

[Verse 5 - The Bowl]

A bowl is not just

a bowl. It is the crack in

the side. The way the light

tries to hide inside the curve.

It can keep you company for hours.

[Verse 6 - The Truth]

The people who own

many things... they are not rich.

They are just heavy.

The people who notice things...

they are the ones who can fly.

[Outro]

The painting is still here.

It is breathing.

I think it likes you.

You did not try to take it home.

You just... looked.

That is enough.

That is everything.

Okay.

Interlude

(A song for the night)

When the sun goes down,

And the world becomes so quiet,

Do not be afraid.

I am watching the shadows,

Seeing the darkness fade out.

Are you feeling this?

I think you must feel the same,

Like a small, warm fire.

Let it burn inside your heart,

I will always be right there.

In the middle of your night,

When the condition is right,

I am standing near.

I do not need to call you,

Or say I am changed.

Please, do not go away now,

You should stay with me.

Stay tonight, just for a while,

It's gonna be alright.

Okay.

[Verse 1 - The Arrival]

The elevator doors

opened and I was inside

a postcard of the city.

Everyone was wearing

very expensive silence.

[Verse 2 - The Queen]

She entered like someone

who has practiced entering.

Her dress was the color

of money after dark.

The ice in my glass made a small sound.

[Verse 3 - The Observation]

I wanted to share

a glass of ice with her.

Not to fight. Just to see

what lives behind the practiced smile.

The cracks that the light finds anyway.

[Verse 4 - The Man in White]

He was there too. The man

in the white suit from before.

He leaned close to her ear.

He was selling her something.

Safety, maybe. Or a story about safety.

[Verse 5 - The Performance]

She is playing a role

called "The Innocent Princess."

He is playing "The Friend."

They think I am furniture.

A small piano in the corner.

[Verse 6 - The Smell]

She smells of Joy perfume

and something else. Something

that does not wash off.

A Hermès bag on her arm

is holding all the things she does not say.

[Verse 7 - The Calculation]

They are very good at

this dance. They have rehearsed.

But real chemistry

does not need rehearsals.

It just… happens. Or it does not.

[Verse 8 - The Truth]

The truth is not in

the gold frame on the wall.

It is in the way her

fingers tighten on the glass

when someone says a certain name.

[Verse 9 - The Stalemate]

They are two statues

in a gallery of one room.

Waiting to see who

will move first. Who will blink.

The city hums below, not caring.

---

[Verse 10]

I finished my drink.

I closed the piano lid very quietly.

They did not notice.

"Keep the tip," I said.

No one heard.

Or maybe they did not want to hear.

[Outro]

It is funny.

You can buy the painting.

You can buy the name.

You can buy the perfume and the bag and the suit.

But you cannot buy the way the light hits

a person who has nothing to hide.

I think I will go back home now.

The train is probably running late.

That is okay.

I like waiting on the platform.

You see real people there.

Okay.

Lori and I would like to extend our deepest gratitude to Lexi Belle for inspiring this piece, and suggesting the title.

Golden leaves whisper

Falling slow in the soft rain

Dusty road holds us

Walking slow in the late sun

Same old tune looping

Round and round like an echo

Lost in summer sound

Rain runs down the glass

Like the tears upon my face

I am watching them grow cold

Lonely seagull cries

High and thin in the grey sky

He is lonely too

But then I think of your hand

Mist rises from the grass

Shadows long and sudden gold

Light breaks through the grey

The world is shining for us

Softly drifts the twilight breeze

Carrying whispers through the trees

Footsteps echo on this path we've made

Memories linger, never to fade

[Chorus]

In a world where shadows play

And the sun finds its way, again

We'll weave through the heart of today

Tracing signs of what has been

[Verse 2]

Gentle strings in the evening air

Flute notes dance, a haunting prayer

Lost in thoughts of laughter, where did it go?

Underneath the boughs, let the feelings flow

Faded dreams in twilight hues

Shadows dance in soft silhouettes

Carrying whispers of what we knew

Moments hidden, wrapped in regrets

[Chorus]

Let the echoes of our laughter stay

In a world where memories sway, again

We’ll find solace in the heart of today

Chasing traces of what once had been

[Verse 3]

As the night falls, the stars appear

Soft notes drift, like the passing years

Underneath the moon, we’ll share our tales

In the silence, where our laughter prevails

I will wait for you always

[Chorus]

Sunlight is lying down

on the hot street. It is too tired

to stand up. The green leaves

are holding their breath

in the thick, slow air.

I find a melody

that is sticky with sweetness.

My heart is a ripe fruit.

I wish the summer would

stop melting off its bones.

[Post-Chorus]

La la la…

Soft like a lazy bee.

La la la…

Where do the lost dreams sleep?

Do they take a long nap

in the shade’s blue pocket?

[Verse 2]

I keep a shell from

the beach where I did not stay.

Your name is written in

the sand of yesterday.

The tide is a big eraser

with a slow, foamy mouth.

I think I hear you laugh

where the dragonflies stitch

the hot air together.

The shadow is small and tired,

but the memory… it sweats.

It will not evaporate.

[Pre-Chorus]

Colors are all too bright.

I do not know why you

had to become a season.

I am reading the same page

by the light of a dying firefly.

[Chorus]

Sunlight is lying down

on the hot street. It is too tired

to stand up. The green leaves

are holding their breath

in the thick, slow air.

I find a melody

that is sticky with sweetness.

My heart is a ripe fruit.

I wish the summer would

stop melting off its bones.

[Post-Chorus]

La la la…

Just a little out of reach.

La la la…

Every memory is a

firefly in a jar—

a small, fading, warm fact.

[Outro: Spoken]

Lost dreams sleep…

and sweat through the sheets.

Okay.

[Verse 1]

In the big bank of clouds, I think I am lost

You are drifting away, like the white winter frost

When the air was more cold, I could see where you stay

Your breath was a wisp, but the heat took it away

[Verse 2]

Now the air is too moist, and the damp is so thick

The sun makes a trick that makes my heart feel quite sick

You are invisible now, like a ghost in the light

Reality is changing from the morning to night

[Pre-Chorus]

The leaves are all firing, turning to red

I remember the things that the summer once said

The sun goes down low in the flat middle-west

The sky is bruised and bleeding, looking for rest

[Chorus]

Please be kind to me...

I do not know the word,

Please be gentle to me...

Will you remember "me"?

Will you remember "we"?

The sky is crying and I am small

Please be kind to me,

after all

[Outro]

I look up at the clouds...

Lost in my thoughts

I hear whispers of you...

But the summer is too loud.

Verse 1 (The Witness)

There is a woman

in a small kitchen. She moves

like she is dancing

with something invisible.

The knife is an extension of her hand.

Verse 2 (The Bones)

Deep in the pot, things

are happening without light.

Bones are giving up

their souls all through the night.

The broth is becoming a memory.

Verse 3 (The Search)

She is searching for

a color. A clarity.

A certain gleam that says,

*Now. It is ready now.*

The steam is a curtain she walks through.

Verse 4 (The Traveler)

It is not for her,

this bowl. She has had her fill

of tasting and waiting.

It is for the traveler

who comes in cold and very still.

Verse 5 (The Watching)

She loves the cooking,

yes. The steam. The patient heat.

But more than cooking,

she loves to watch them finally

lift the spoon. The moment they breathe in.

Verse 6 (The Small Things)

A pinch of salt is

a small, white philosophy.

A splash of soy is

a dark wisdom from a jar.

She turns a bowl into a vessel.

Verse 7 (The Marrow)

Let the marrow melt.

Let the flavors find each other

in the hot, dark water.

It is the only peace

she has ever been able to find.

Verrse 8 (The Bowl)

She does not need fame.

Gold is heavy and useless.

She needs a story

that fits inside a ceramic bowl.

A perfect, steaming story.

Verse 9 (The Fire)

She stirs the fire

until the day breaks open.

The bitterness fades,

becoming something else.

Something that tastes like beginning.

Outro

She stops.

She listens.

The bowl is empty.

The traveler breathes.

She says nothing.

But her mouth makes a small shape.

It is not a smile.

It is something older.

Something that knows.

Next.

Lori and band perform Nobody And The Computer's composition "Sunday Light On Quiet Water." We extend our extreme gratitude to Lexi Belle for her helpful suggestions.

Verse 1 (The Scene)

On a night that could be

from an old movie, in a room

where a gold clock ticks,

a man sits in his white suit.

The air is getting very thick.

Verse 2 (The Arrival)

She comes from the dark

wearing a dress the color

of midnight. Midnight blue.

No introduction. She was

summoned. He knew she would come.

Verse 3 (The Waiting)

She does not ask things.

She watches the silver gleam.

The ice in the bucket

is slowly becoming water.

The city has fever dreams.

Verse 4 (The Table)

On the table, oysters

are waiting in their cold shells.

She wears Joy perfume.

The smell is jasmine and death.

The bag on her lap is old and expensive.

Verse 5 (The Debt)

She has a debt. She

has brought it to him tonight.

She does not speak it.

The oysters know. The clock knows.

He straightens his tie. It is a flag.

Verse 6 (The Stare)

She looks at him coolly.

The moon is on the water.

The leather of the bag.

The jasmine in the air. They wait

to see who will look away first.

Verse 7 (The Morning)

Morning light is like

a surgeon. Precise and cold.

The champagne tastes like

lead now. He holds his cards close

to his chest. The words are sleeping.

Verse 8 (The Statues)

They are two statues

in a museum of one room.

The clock is still ticking.

Neither one will move first.

Both are too proud. Both are afraid.

Verse 9 (The Taste)

Every little taste

is caught inside the bones now.

The silk of her dress

slid when she sat down. He heard it.

It sounded like a small goodbye.

[Outro]

"Checkmate."

She said it quietly.

"Let's do this again… in another life."

Then a laugh. Not happy. Just… tired.

The door closed. It was a heavy door.

I was still holding my drink.

I never saw who won.

Maybe nobody won.

Maybe that was the point.