Recommended by Daniel Prillaman

Is death the loss of our body? Or our soul? What are we if not our identity? Gill’s one-act prompts these juicy questions and so many more, serving a slick, genre-fied metaphor for how refugees are expected to adapt (unforgivingly so) to the culture of the country in which they seek shelter. It’s not only a chilling scene, but one both nuanced & humane, tackling the complexities of what it means to be and stay human amidst so much violence and terror. And, of course, what it means to give it up.

How fine is the line between lack of romantic attraction and racism? Kumar’s short play fires on all cylinders as both comedy and drama, light-heartedly drawing sharp, incisive points about race and privilege. Instantly among the best ten minute plays I’ve ever come across.

Dysphoria is a beast. Explaining it is hard to yourself, much less your partner, especially with fears they might not accept you. Mabey’s scene is a beautiful portrait of such a turning point in one relationship. A stunning and clear reminder that communication is paramount, how ballistically hard it is (even when things go “right,”) and how acceptance can only deepen love. Tremendous piece of writing.

Nuanced and thoughtful, Aftab’s play is perhaps a read unlike any other. Serving as representation in its own right, the script interrogates motivations behind it and the costs, good or bad, never failing to celebrate the transcendent diversity of the individual. As people, we (and djinns?) come in all shapes and sizes and forms and figures. Constantly growing, learning, and shifting. If we fix ourselves in place for others (instead of ourselves), what does that truly mean? Lovely piece.

Insightful and condemning in equal measure, Hambley deftly shines a light on how terrifyingly close we are (in any era) to the Orwellian nightmare that is 1984. It brings to mind the old tweet of yore, "if libraries didn't already exist, they would be declared a socialist plot." They're not just exemplars of freedom and creative thinking, but vital bastions of communities large and small. To control them is to control people. We should be doing this play everywhere.

Look, sometimes illegally climbing a huge ass building is less scary than facing your feelings. Assaf’s two-hander is absolutely brilliant, gifting actors and designers with a complex, nuanced queer relationship and a daunting, thrilling playground to place it in. The back-and-forth structure of live action to recorded video gives found-footage vibes in the coolest way, making the pacing as addicting as rooftopping itself. If you’re into any of the above, you will definitely be into this play.

A fun, moving short of magical realism and sapphic love, even if one of them happens to be…well, gone. Actors and designers, particularly, will have a field day bringing the imagery and sounds of this script to life. I’m left with a multitude of emotions on grief, longing, and our universe, and I’m loving every bit.

Chilling. There's so much you can take from Martin's short horror, but what I latched onto during my first reading was rooted in the eternal battle (for lack of another word) between youth & age. Owen's naivety and "know everything" attitude is infectious, but also what leads him down his path. So does Isaac, then, have more responsibility? And what would that mean for his part in the action? Tight, succinct, terrifying. If you read one short today, I highly encourage you make it this one.

A fun, wrenching, and thrilling horror homage of layers nestled into one another tighter than a Russian doll. The interplay between Autumn and Weaver is a delight, and I can imagine two actors (and audiences) absolutely diving into them. Perhaps the biggest highlight is the set, a perfect example of how the horror genre can, in fact, translate to the stage and still leave viewers with food for thought. This is one for the final girlies everywhere.

What does it mean to be there for someone? Strangers? Friends? Kastner's tremendous script deeply and deftly delves into the bystander effect and whether or not that's even actually a thing, though. Real life is different than stories, right? I haven't been able to stop thinking about this play and found it a grand meditation on the human desire to help others, even when getting it wrong. Brutal and inspiring in equal measure.