Dust Pan

...and none of them can quite put it together, none of them can seem to recognize that the moment they shared just minutes earlier, while an orchestra hung aching on its final note, and each one of them was standing in a dark hall alongside a thousand other people and anonymously applauding the achievement of a costumed stranger—that was most likely the single most honest, genuine moment of human interaction they’ll have that year. The crowd disperses quickly, and inside, a janitor pushes rose petals and candy wrappers into a dust pan.

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