Recommended by Ruben Carbajal

Stephen G. Martin's one-minute piece deftly proves that the most effective horror happens offstage and in your mind.

There's an echo of tragedy that reverberates across generations in the taught and moving one-minute piece. I was moved by Alessandra's bravery and how the painful truth that some people never receive the love they need, and that often times justice falls on deaf ears.

Much more than a tribute, with a virtuosic language, 87 Keys briefly resurrects the presence of a beloved friend. By the end, I not only understood the profound loss of this unique and beautiful soul–I found myself missing someone I’d never met. Though the playwright only has a single photo to remember the departed, it's clear that Rick Unterberg's spirit burns brightly in Scott. Take a moment to watch Scott’s impassioned presentation of this monologue on YouTube. We desperately need more writing like this to remember how much Covid has taken from us.

This monologue, showcasing Vivian Lermond's knack for vibrant dialogue, sparkles with insight and character. A delightful piece for an actor and anyone lucky enough to see this performed. Top notch!

Stripping drama to its essentials, Martin's piece packs plenty of tension, drama, and emotion masterfully into a few lines of dialogue. This is what theatre is all about.

There's not only the unexpected, but it's Sickles' way of combining the dialogue's sweetness and acidity in such lively, naturalistic ways. The language pops and crackles, building anticipation. I really wanted to learn more about these characters and where their relationship would go.

A tight and twisty thriller that ratchets up the tension with precision and wit. The simplicity and ambiguity of the setting unfolds into something unexpected and complex. This would add a wonderful note of menace to any evening of short plays. Lots of fun!

In one brief monologue, you travel across an entire life, full of wonder and regret. A transformative and evocative piece that is deeply felt and full of sensory language that places you in the speaker's skin. By the end, you feel like you know this lost soul in a profound way. An excellent monologue with plenty of depth to explore.

So much depth and emotion in this beautifully rendered one-minute piece. Comfort, pain, history, healing--a perfect theatrical moment.

This is powerful stuff. Finding oneself not just on the outside, but attacked by, nearly every community they should belong to is a special, acute kind of pain. Scott Sickles shines a light on this pain, and it was not only very moving for me, but made me feel less alone in the world. What more can you ask for from a work of art?