Sarah is 27 and dying. She throws a preemptive shiva for herself. Only three people show up: her ex-girlfriend, her mother, and her mother’s friend Lou. The three sit and discuss lesbian sex, Judaism, legacy, and edible arrangements. They dye Sarah’s hair blue. Re-hash their respective relationships. And eventually? Dance. 

Reid Pope's life-affirming investigation of mortality invites you in for some of kugel, and then punches you in the gut while leaning casually against the wall. It also happens to be really funny, which a thing you get when one of America's foremost upcoming playwrights also does standup and writes for comedy shows.