Between March and May, we didn’t once meet as a group. Not indoors, not outdoors. We quarantined, like the rest of the world.

And we still are. But very cautiously, with care to stay safe and healthy, we’ve gently begun poking our heads outside and gathering again — in very small groups, seated at least 6 feet apart, only outdoors (where virus transmission rates appear to be vastly lower), and with masks on hand…but gathering again, finally, to sit in the sun and talk to other human beings through a medium other than Zoom or Facetime.

Half a dozen of us met, on separate towels except where two were from the same household and could safely have closer contact.

We chose one of the quietest lawns we know, in the northern reaches of Central Park — the part of the park where the street numbers reach triple digits and the tourists (are there still any in New York?) never go.

All the same, we were happened upon by various solitary walkers and small family groups; one even picnicked within sight of us (though a Covid-appropriate distance away). And we’re pleased to say that our toplessness excited exactly zero interest or comment.

We thought our cautious removal of our masks might call down more opprobrium these days than our baring our breasts — but neither did. Kudos to our fellow New Yorkers for forbearance, tolerance, patience. The classic NYC live-and-let-live attitude is even more to everyone’s credit now when infractions genuinely can be a matter of life and death. We owe it to each other to safeguard each other’s wellbeing — no breathing on your fellow citizens! But the sight of our breasts does not have any infectious quality, unless it might infect someone with a taste for freedom, for equal rights, for physical comfort. And those are the sort of viral qualities you don’t want to obstruct.

Two weeks have passed since this day in the park, and we can report that everyone is still healthy (ink notwithstanding!).

And so we’re planning our next couple of events. If you’d like to join us, please email toplesspulpfiction@gmail.com. Space is limited, obviously, but we welcome all women to get in touch, and if you want to join us sometime — to come out with a towel and a book and just, for once in so many difficult months, relax — we’ll find a way.

In the meantime, we hope you’ll take advantage of any opportunities you might have for solo adventures — on your roof, on the fire escape, in the yard, in the park. Stay safe and stay smart, but we hope you do find your way out and uncover.