Dog on a Cold Stone Floor

The creative writing class I teach at the community center meets every other Thursday at 7 p.m. Anything goes, I say. Poetry, short stories, a screenplay; write whatever you like, and we’ll work to improve it. The students vary in age from teenagers to octogenarians.

Recently, Lucas, 20, submitted a one-act play called Dog on a Cold Stone Floor. The play, set in Harlem, is an inversion of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Li’l Daddy and Li’l Mama live in a two-bedroom apartment with their son Pebble and his wife, “Maggie the Dog.” They all love each other, communicate openly, and enjoy perfect health and happiness.

When I told Lucas I liked his idea, the inversion, but felt a one-off joke better suited his premise than a full-fledged one-act, he scratched his earlobe and said, “Huh?”

“Tennessee Williams,” I said.

“Who?”

“Cat on a hot tin roof,” I said.

“Huh?”

It’s been a few days and I keep thinking, is this possible?