In the classic supernatural thriller The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson
writes,
> “‘Don’t do it,’ Eleanor told the little girl; ‘insist on your cup of stars; once
they have trapped
In New York City, a place I’ve longed to live since childhood, I wrestle with
unattainability. One evening on my friend’s rooftop, I watched the sun set over
the Manhattan skyline.
Outside an old hotel in the Swiss Alps, an elderly writer fearing the end of his
literary career watches two figures climb the steepest side of a distant
mountain. Miles away, the climbers
