All’s Well

by Mona Awad

Lie to this long-haired child and tell her the reason we are doing this play is because it will stretch her and her fellow cast members to take on a play that is disturbing but not in an obvious bloodbath/orgy way; that is witchy without the cackling hags; that is funny-sad rather than simply sad; that is dark-light, rather than just dark, just light; that is problematic, provocative, complex, and mysterious; a hidden mountain flower growing in the shade of Shakespeare’s canon that hasn’t been put on by a million fucking schools already. And is timely too. Socially relevant.

then I remember Grace is gone. I pushed her away with the hands of my voice. It’s just me here now. At this high table for two by the bar. My hands cupped around my empty drink like it’s a flame about to go out.