Recommended by Philip Middleton Williams

There are epiphanies that can be brought on by visions, by self-awareness, even in a dream; sometimes a combination of all three or more. In this beautifully woven short play, a priest has to convince a young man that what he felt at what he thought was a moment of revelation may be something else entirely. Vince Gatton's deft touch brings out all of the subtle elements of this moment layer upon layer, and what may be the truth is left to us to ponder, which makes it all the more compelling to see and hear.

Just as "Inherit the Wind" by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee makes the point that their play isn't about a specific moment in history -- The Scopes Trial -- "it could be yesterday; it could be tomorrow," Donald E. Baker's cautionary tale "Trade With Klan: A Play about Choices" isn't just about a small town in Indiana in the thrall of the KKK. It's about people nurturing their intolerance that they resort to the comfort of bigotry and the assurance of their own self-indulgent righteousness. This is a universal lesson, and worth hearing again and again.

I seriously believe that this is perhaps the most authentically romantic one-minute play on NPX. There's no fake sincerity or blather about roses and rainbows; it cuts through the bullshit and reveals an honest connection between two kindred souls and goes right to the heart of the matter. After reading it, I needed a cookie or two. Or three.

A mystery solved doesn't always bring closure, and in this tale of a man searching for his past, Alice Josephs asks what would you do if you were in his place. Told in a broken-fourth-wall style and through the memories of tabloid journalists who live by headlines, Keith and Dave bring an immediacy to this short piece that doesn't let up.

The only more insecure people in theatre other than playwrights are actors. Even with adulation and adoration flowing at them like a riptide, they have doubts about their own work and will believe the slightest misstep or flaw is a harbinger of Doom; or worse, a bad review. For this legendary couple, numerous curtain calls and rapturous applause are suspect because... well, only an actor can explain it (or a playwright). Greg Hatfield's delightful comedy would be perfect for a short play festival, and the actors would earn the genuine applause.

Of all the Scott Sickles plays that I've read, this one resonates with me in a way I never expected. The situation -- a father trying to reconcile with the mother of his child -- is fraught with tension in how this attempt will touch the child: can they get beyond their past and make a future for her that rises -- floats -- above their differences. As always, the dialogue is brilliant -- funny, sharp, and devastating -- and the characters pull you in to the point that you can feel the ice cream running down your fingers.

You don't have to love baseball to understand that it is more than just a game. It has been seen so often as a metaphor for life that it is embedded in our psyche: love, strife, hope, disappointment, strategy, all played out in front of thousands who pin their own lives on the outcome. In this short piece that captures all of that, Cody Goulder shows us two souls meant for each other in a way that avoids the cliches and shows us how they find more than just love in the stands.

He had me at the character descriptions, and never let up. But then, I'm a sucker for a good caper story with plenty of twists and turns and a dash of noir, so no fair, Weibezahl, ya got me. It's the stuff dreams are made of.

Who knew there is a Cracker Barrel in Nirvana? Well, why shouldn't there be? What's transcendence to a higher plane of existence and the everlasting enlightenment for someone may be country-fried steak and buttery biscuits. The people that Taro meets after his lengthy period of self-denial, silence, and reaching for the higher plane have their own way of getting there, including really loving Tchaikovsky (and I mean really). Evan Spreen does it in a funny, loving, and off-beat (pun intended) way that will have you laughing and loving it all the way to the next plane.

As John Steinbeck once observed, there are things that we will share with our hairstylist or barber that we wouldn't tell our priest in confession or our therapist. There is something about that time in the chair and facing the mirror when we let our hair down, both literally and metaphorically. Cheryl Davis captures the moment with wonderful clarity and economy, and these two women share their innermost feelings and affection with wit, humor, and face the time with courage and deftness.