Recommended by Philip Middleton Williams

I've only been to London twice, but now I want to go back and follow the spectral footsteps of Marcus and Sextus as they recount their memories of a memorable time in that once-Roman den of frolic and iniquity. And who better to lead the journey than Dominica Plummer, whose skills in writing are legion.

This play brought back memories of my own short-lived teaching career, and reminded me so well of something I wish I'd done: be the teacher to each student, not the whole class, and learn as much in the process as they do. This walk to a garden where many things grow, some thriving, some fighting off the weeds, is an inspiring moment for the teacher, the student, and those of us lucky enough to share it.

The set description says, "The Southwest as imagined by Edward Hopper." In this diner where two lonely hearts meet up, the world of Hopper fills not just the stage, but sets the mood for the lyrical poetry of the dialogue and the mystical lives inhabited by loneliness, longing, and regret. But even in this sad place that smells of old coffee and stale smoke, there's a glimmer of hope from the dreams Lee and Coffee have held on to, and they're not so different. This play is filled with a mellow intensity, which makes it all the more worth seeing.

As Freud noted, sometimes a cigar is just a cigar. But sometimes a metaphor can become a pointed and even humorous insight into life, existence, and the casualness with which we approach it. Sounds really deep, eh? But not in the deft and snappy dialogue in this short play that takes a look at how easily we can delete something -- a word, a document, a life -- and only then realize the "Oh NO!" moment. A life-or-delete lesson if there ever was one.

A sweet slice of life between two people who have seen enough of the hard road and are ready to pull over and set a spell and enjoy a little time with someone who shares some of the same memories. Order up.

This fun experiment is proof that even when the machine overlords take over, they will never replays the real play right.

(Submitted via iPhone voice-to-text. Please excuse any types.)

The bond between these siblings is tender, strong, contentious, but most of all genuine. All too often they are played either for laughs or crisis, but in this moment of alertness by DeeDee and his fixation on protecting his family, we see how Amelia, at once both exasperated and loving, looks out for her brother in a way that only they can understand. John Patrick Bray does a masterful job of bringing them to us so we not only understand them, but want to be with them.

Whether you admit it or not, everyone needs a safe space. It can be your room, your study, the garage, the kitchen, or even an erstwhile comic book store in someone's basement. The people in David Hansen's world of "The Negative Zone" have found this place where they can find themselves with friends, learn truths about themselves and their friends, and still feel at home. Their imaginary world, populated by comic book heroes and villains, is slowly evolving to real life, and this refuge is their way in as they grow up...and out.

In trying to recall a dream upon waking, we remember bits and pieces out of order. Trying to relate it to others, it seems to make no sense unless you shared the same experience -- or think you did. These four friends are all recalling a time together when none of them is sure if it was real, imagined, or something else. Yet there is a common thread and magic in this suspenseful tale woven delicately by John Patrick Bray, and as you follow them, you are drawn in as deeply as they are.

The blend of comedy, drama, angst, and cutthroat competition come together in this radio version of a play that moves along without a hitch, and moves you to both out-loud laughter and perhaps a tear or two... the good kind. Doug DeVita's story and the addition of well-crafted sound effects hark back to the best of radio drama, and the story of office intrigue in the ad trade counterpoint with the friendships and rivalries are borne out of true affection. Dodo is right: it soars.