While the Black Dust scene at Lincoln Center takes place over the Christmas holiday, that colorful detail is missing in these images. Still, the vastness, the bright shimmering fountain, the reconsideration of dreams lost and found again, those remain the same.
Before Tobias could register what was happening, Emmett had taken hold of his hand and was tugging him across the street. “Oh my—Toby, my God, look! It’s stunning! Huge! The stairs are lit up with—”
Emmett stopped again and squinted at the words illuminated across the shallow staircase that led up to the main courtyard of Lincoln Center. “Welcome, Willkommen, Benvenuti, Salve.” He read and read until the words changed to titles of upcoming shows. Emmett squeaked in glee.
“The tree! Come on, Toby. Come take my picture by the tree. And
the fountain, and the—” Emmett stopped again and spun around to
take in the enormous space, made more remarkable by its setting in
such a cramped, tightly packed city. “Why are you still standing there?
Tobias couldn’t deny that Emmett’s joy was contagious. He jogged up the awkward stairs and took pictures from afar as Emmett posed in front of the fountain, his silhouette changing shape with each position. They walked around the complex, past The Met and across the plaza back to Sixty-fifth Street.
“Do you miss it?” Tobias finally asked.
“Miss what? I never had it.”
“The dream. Do you miss the dream?”
“No.” Emmett stopped and looked back at where they’d walked, at the multicolored glow peeking around the buildings. “I think I like it best as a dream.”
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