In the lobby of the High Line hotel in New York, there is a bell jar of empty bird eggs.
Last weekend when I stayed at the hotel, I stopped to admire the eggs every time I was in the lobby.
Each one of the eggs is different.
Each egg holds a story.
Sometimes kids say to me: do you ever worry you’re going to run out of ideas for stories?
And my answer is always the same: no. Never. Look around you.
Look at those eggs.

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