Author

It had been like this for the past few nights, breathlessly still and overpoweringly hot, as though the earth’s long, circular motion through space had been suspended, perhaps through a kind of cosmic lassitude, and that [sic] now the discouraged sphere was drifting slowly downwards through dense, sultry darkness toward a forced landing in the sun’s great bin of ashes.

This “Found Text” is not currently available online. A never-before-published, full-length play by Tennessee Williams.

Featuring the short plays:

Beauty Is the Word
Hot Milk at Three in the Morning