Endgame, by Samuel Beckett

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It’s the end of everything. And for some reason, the only people left alive are a misanthrope, his cynical son, and his bumbling parents. The misanthrope is blind and wheelchair-bound. The parents live inside ash bins, and occasionally pop their heads out to brighten the bleak tableau with some comic relief. Amidst the bickering and inanities, the existential plight of humankind burns. Here at the end of all things, the questions persist. “Why this farce, day after day?”