Recommended by Philip Middleton Williams

Sometimes all it takes is just a word, a gesture, a touch, to reassure each other. In this brief moment, Matthew Weaver's two characters offer that, even if they need it themselves.

I'm willing to bet that most gay men had their first realization of their sexual identity by seeing something like a Calvin Klein underwear ad: an abstract and unattainable object of visceral lust, and the awareness of it where even if it cannot be spoken or even acknowledged, it cannot be denied. Vince Gatton perfectly captures the moment when it happens, and does it in such a way that you can't help but feel exactly what this young man is going through.

In one minute, you know everything you need to know about Win and Tim, which is how it should be.

Larry Rinkel's poetic tribute to a lost love is touching, humorous, but most of all, deeply moving. As he does in his other plays, he brings out a level of humanity that in ten minutes reveals a life and the story of the friendship that lasts long after death. I know oh so well how the old man feels about Brian, and so will you.

There are songs that become ear-worms: annoying to the point that you can't get them out of your head. Then there are those that become part of our subconscious, that form a continuo in our life that seem to come along as we need them and complement and complete a moment. This short piece by Sean McCord weaves the lyrics of songs of the characters' lives into the conversation and makes their connection even more meaningful. It's graceful, charming, winsome, and hopeful.

A touching and deeply insightful moment in the life of two boys where a moment and an opportunity for for a connection passes, and the regret for what might have been lives on.

It could have led to nothing. But it also could have been life-changing. He'll never know. And that is the true loss.

John Busser's laugh-per-line quotient is right up there with this short play, not to mention the double-entendres that are slipped in artfully and imaginatively. Jacquie's rehearsal for the, um, show is hilarious. I'd like to watch, too.

A gift of perspective on hardened views is always welcome, and Megan Ann Jacobs gives us all that, wrapped up neatly in ten pages of snappy dialogue, full-fledged characters, and no holding back during that "most wonderful time of year." Yes, it's seasonal, but it's worth seeing and hearing any time.

The aftershocks of war last far longer than the end of the conflict, and in this touching but very real family drama, Marj O'Neill-Butler shows us that secrets long-held can either divide or unite them. Told with love but without overwrought sentimentality, "The What If of War" gives us full dimensional characters who see how the passage of time does not fade commitment, love, and understanding.

What do you do when you don't know where you are or what there is to do and what comes next? Why, of course, you stare at your phone and play a child's game while the rest of the world contemplates your fate.

The lesson that Lee R. Lawing conveys isn't pounded into our consciousness, but gently creeps in so that even the thickest of us can understand how important the slightest connection can convey. Masterfully done.