On my Forbes blog, I wrote about the impeding shuttering of a restaurant in Paris for nudists—or, you know, people who want to eat in the buff. Here’s a bit from the post:
“Arguably, the most intriguing opportunity of nude eating in a restaurant is more symbolic than shrewd. Imagine a first date where everything was out on the table. Nothing in between you and your date but the table and the food. With little to hide, one might be more inclined to share more, to keep fewer secrets, to let down their guard and show the world who they really are.”
Buy "The Tumor" — my short story that’s been called "a masterpiece of short fiction."