Recommended by Claudia Haas

There are so many small, perfect moments in this lopsided-romantic comedy. The dialogue glistens with the back-and-forth that can only happen between two friends who care about one another. You may think you know where it's going - a Starbucks barrister from Wisconsin visiting a friend in L.A. who has made it big-time as a songwriter. But there are twists and turns and it builds to a wistful realization of what wishes are and aren't. It's an engaging two-hander for the actors and offers some thoughtful sweetness to the audience.

A one-upmanship at a funeral - it's a thing and it's a big thing here. I love the circle of friendship that exists here. Two people who were friends with Kate and are still vying for Kate's attention - even though she's gone - just may have made a new friend. Maybe. It's funny, it bites and later there's honey for the wound. This is a quirky and delightful addition to any ten-minute play festival.

I now think every Thanksgiving dinner should start with each family member reciting a prepared statement on a notecard. This romantic-anti-romantic comedy is a charmer. I love how when it veers on sweetness (and Grandma's monologue touches ye olde heartstrings), it changes course. It's brimming over with love, silliness and cranberry stuffing. Sounds like a perfect Thanksgiving to me.

"Why can we go forward and not back?" This is asked over and over as Ethan and Liz try so hard to go forward and are stuck. Stuck in a snowstorm, stuck in a car and stuck with their memories of their child that died. Wall does a skillful job of creating slippery slopes for his characters while they remain moored in their car. The characters entice, enrage, and still can soothe each other. It's a wonderful two-hander that hands the actors something rich to play. And it keeps the audience on their toes - even after the final blackout.

Everyone owns 16-year old Lindsey's body except Lindsey. We open with her best friend encouraging her to have a tattoo which she doesn't want - to the teenage boy who assumes that Lindsey joining him one night implies consent and even her mother who makes a snap medical decision for her daughter's pregnancy. The use of flashbacks growing in clarity is tense, succinct and frightening. The ending scene is a triumph for Lindsey - the imagery is used beautifully. Loved the character of Rooster - and his sanity. Just a gorgeous play for teens and their families.

This was fascinating. Two old friends meet to discuss an incident from their past - an incident that is being filmed for a documentary. The incident of the missing child certainly drew me in. But as I reader, I noticed I was eager for Magda's reactions. And the play is as much (or more) about Magda and how she chose to live her life after the incident. There are many surprises and two beautifully realized roles for an older actor and actress.

He's a chef at a soup kitchen and he reads cookbooks! Max is trying to keep poison out of food specifically poison out of the mouths of babes, vets, yes - the homeless population. The monologue builds as Max explains his reasons, his methods, his knowledge and never lets up. You are so on his side. A compelling monologue about food, homelessness or just trying to care in today's world.

Wow. Can we put this in every gun control festival right now? Grim and incisive satire as to why you should always buy your guns in the good old U.S.A. It highlights the ridiculousness of our laws. Having the monologue said by a gung-ho salesperson magnifies the idiocy of these times.

What struck me under the derogatory one-upmanship between father and daughter was the underlying tenderness and love between them both. Yes, there is a chasm which is acknowledged by both the daughter and her man-child of a father, but it is clear what bridges have been built to augment it. And what bridges are left unsaid for later. A coming-of-age play for both characters - it's a lovely addition to any festival but especially ones exploring family dynamics.

Don't drop the egg in the spoon, pregnancy, a life changed because of another life - the fragility of life, the fragility of choice, the fragility of women - there's a lot going on in this short piece and none of it's easy. All of it is possible. There are four generations of women on stage who have known varying women's rights. The youngest has none of them. Darkly funny and frightening, you do wonder - what happens when women's rights are as fragile as the egg in the spoon? A timely and thoughtful play with four meaty female roles.