Recommended by Lawrence Aronovitch

A gem of a short play, an entire universe of emotion, regret, hope and love encapsulated in a few minutes of dialogue between two strangers awaiting the births of family members. A maternity ward is a fraught place by definition, and Marj O’Neill-Butler successfully steers her characters' encounter to a warm and satisfying conclusion.

A skillfully captured moment in time, a dramatic moment of transition that carries with it the weight of the ages when a child asks a parent for understanding. A moment for wisdom as both the child and the parent reach out to one another within a web of ancient Jewish traditions. Lovely.

A chilling snapshot of a reality too many people refuse to see, coupled with a familiar parenting challenge. When is prejudice acceptable, and how do we explain that to our kids? Kudos to Seinuk for bringing this story vividly to life in an eminently relatable way - and extra points for Seinuk's casting notes.

Full disclosure: I was there when Philip wrote this monologue and I got to hear him read it as well. I thought it was extraordinary at the time and was eager to read the piece again. It does what art should do, which is to invite the reader into a character, even a hateful one - if not to condone, at least to understand. And like all good art, it leaves the reader with questions: who is this person, why does he act or speak as he does, and what does that mean for me?

Less a play than a poem, this piece is indeed a deluge, an inexorable tide of language, unstopping and unstoppable, endlessly evocative, yanking at our emotions. What I love is that with each reading there's something new to discover. I can only imagine the joy with which actors, directors and choreographers will dive into the material. Lovely.

With a title like this it's not hard to predict where this short piece is going to go, especially when the title is also the first line of dialogue. So the question is whether the play can deliver, and it does: a funny and entertaining piece that satisfies because it manages to create real characters rather than clichés in just a few minutes of dialogue.

Gut-wrenching and raw - how do we cope with unutterable loss? What do we reach for as we try to comprehend? Seinuk masterfully boils these questions down to their essence in a ten-minute encounter that left me indelibly moved.

There's a sweet and affectionate nostalgic tone to DeVita's portrayal of family life in the 1970's, complete with references to Rice-A-Roni, Pringles Chips and "Maude," but he shows us real people with all their flaws as they stumble and try to connect with each other, especially when we flash forward to the present. This is a lovely play that had me on page one and has left me thinking about the lives of its many characters long after its final scene.