I’ve recently wanted to read Tennesee Williams’ Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. I have heard the title so many times but have never seen a performance or read the hard copy. I looked it up on the library database and found, to my surprise, that there is only one copy of the play available in this county. It is nestled in the fourth series of an anthology called Best American Plays.
I customarily have a long workday at the bank on Friday, but, today, I was off. In bed, I reached for the play anthology. Gratefully, I pored over Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. I could see so much honesty and beauty, and when I say I was reading ‘gratefully,’ I mean my being was one giant squeal of praise, and I felt like I was doing something that I was supposed to be doing. Interacting with a text felt like a much better use of my time than working at my job–if you don’t count the money, of course.
"How do you solve a problem like Maria?
How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?"