Recommended by Greg Burdick

Losing a parent is devastating. But to suffer that loss as a child can be soul crushing. And if you were culpable in their death? Unimaginable. Dwayne Yancey takes us to the River Styx in this ten-minute Greek tragedy packed with hubris, catharsis, and choral wailing that will undoubtedly haunt.

Portions of Logan Butcher's charming two-hander will call to mind Annie Baker's "The Flick," as the larger themes of his play are craftily nestled inside the drudgery of working at a fast food restaurant. Co-workers Christine and Tristan both traverse sweeping character arcs in sixty brisk minutes. The dialogue charges, whether it's conversational, confrontational, or achingly tender and romantic. I had the good fortune to see the play produced virtually by the members of "The Quarantine Series," based in Houston, Texas. Their actors embrace and maximize the capabilities of the Zoom platform, paving an admirable road for distance theatre.

If your theatre company specializes in puppetry (and even if it doesn’t,) embark on a whirlwind adventure between Franz Kafka, and a young girl, who tragically loses her most prized possession. Straddling real and imagined worlds, “Letters From Lisette” shrinks us to toy size, and then effortlessly tugs us back to our human form... as the lives of a little doll, an empathetic writer, and an 8 year old girl cosmically intertwine. Children young and old, whose imaginations still burn brightly, will be instantly enamored with this charming and beautiful play. Don’t waste any more time: produce it.

At its surface, Haller’s play examines two women with very different points of view regarding body image. But dig a little deeper, and you’ll discover a very clever short exploring the inequity of being forced to compromise our own liberties the moment another person feels uncomfortable. And lighting/scenic designers wil enjoy the challenge of the story’s flammable climax!

Just when you’re staring into the deep dark abyss of a months-long bio-outbreak quarantine, Carnes delivers a therapeutic ray of light in her third appearance of Minky the Sock Monkey. This time, the outspoken stuffie is holed up with kinda-sorta boyfriend Billie... and the onset of cabin fever takes its toll. Push comes to shove, and concessions must be made. If you’ve read the first two gems in this trilogy, stop what you’re doing, and read this immediately!

Losing a parent is devastating. But to suffer that loss as a child can be soul crushing. And if you were culpable in their death? Unimaginable. Dwayne Yancey takes us to the River Styx in this ten-minute Greek tragedy packed with hubris, catharsis, and choral wailing that will undoubtedly haunt.

The contemporary dating scene is hard. Fear of catfishing on dating apps is sadly just par for the course. But what if the catfish got catfished? In Rod Hearn’s dark thriller, Violet, he cleverly invokes a classic American theatre staple inside the artisanal tea shop where his story takes place. Part Dexter, part Black Mirror, this short will have you shifting uncomfortably in your seat from the moment the lights rise to the play’s stunning conclusion.

A tragic story, the likes of which we’ve many times witnessed play out in the news, but in “Touch the Moon,” Arianna Rose puts us into the center of the chaos, and within just a few moments fills us with utter dread. As though it’s happening to us. The play effortlessly travels forward and backward in time, with what feel like almost poetic transitions. And up until the story’s grim conclusion, we’re left wondering what’s true, and what is not. A gripping drama, with juicy parts for three female performers, it’s a page turner!

The disquieting setting of McPherson’s short play serves as a perfect backdrop for Hank and Claire’s post-relationship reunion. Their negotiation is tense, and fraught with startling escalations as it powers toward a grave climax. Clever dialogue and complex characters make this dark comedy of two lost souls a winner.

A stirring work of closure, self-discovery, and how we bury and unearth the past. Rachael Carnes’ characters are expertly drawn, and instantly lovable... whether it’s for their dark brooding air, their frantic high-maintenance nature, or their socially inappropriate outbursts. These women feel real. The writing here calls to mind the work of Susan Harris... she and Carnes share an uncanny ability to craft uproariously funny dialogue/situations, and turn on a dime, on a single line, changing the tone so effortlessly that you’d be laughing as the tears start to stream. A dark and beautiful play.