While the first two monologues don't grasp me so much (although I did enjoy both of them to an extent), the third play in the trilogy about a mother and a son who write back and forth to each other over the course of twenty-three years is fantastic. Very human with distinct voices, the mother, Miriam, and her son, Roger, jump into reality, fixing their words right to the heart. I may have to go read it again just to spend more time with them—which is a testament, I think, to the brilliance of the writing, because neither of the characters are "pleasant people"; still, they manage to be people you want to be around.