Read the excerpt from Brighton Beach Memoirs, by Neil Simon. Act One

Brighton Beach, New York. September 1937. A wooden frame house, not too far from the beach. It is a lower-middle-income area inhabited mostly by Jews, Irish and Germans.

The entrance to the house is to the right: a small porch and two steps up that lead to the front door. Inside we see the dining room and living-room area. Another door leads to the kitchen… A flight of stairs leads up to three small bedrooms. Unseen are two other bedrooms. A hallway leads to other rooms…

It’s around six-thirty and the late-September sun is sinking fast. KATE JEROME, about forty years old, is setting the table. Her sister, BLANCHE MORTON, thirty-eight, is working at a sewing machine. LAURIE MORTON, aged thirteen, is lying on the sofa reading a book.

Outside on the grass stands EUGENE JEROME, almost but not quite fifteen. He is wearing knickers, a shirt and tie, a faded and torn sweater, Keds sneakers and a baseball cap. He has a beaten and worn baseball glove on his left hand, and in his right hand he holds a softball that is so old and battered that it is ready to fall apart.