Imagine a ghost story told in a rural nightmare town where the lights are always gone. Now add livestock, the abandoned women of Eaton, Colorado, and violence in the American West and you’ve got "My Daughter Keeps Our Hammer", a world premiere play by Brian Watkins at the Flea Theater.

The plot of the play is simple: two sisters trapped in small-town America care for an ill, never seen mother and her anointed sheep, Vicky. Vicky seems to be the unfair target of both sisters’ frustrations -- they take out their anger on her the way you might pummel a pillow while stifling the desire to pummel your mother.

"My Daughter" is bare-bones storytelling. It is austere, contained, and careful -- making the gory reveals of the play all the more mesmeric. Watkins gives his cast and his audience a challenge: the entire play is a series of vacillating monologues performed in direct address. Were it not for the charm and adeptness of the sisters, Sarah (Katherine Folk-Sullivan) and Hannah (Layla Khoshnoudi), we could drown in the language of our eager storyteller.

Danya Taymor directs with searing precision. She makes bold decisions and executes intelligent restraint. As she navigates the more challenging aspects of the play, she never compromises the ascetic forsaken desert. She lets the shadows do the talking.

Katherine Folk-Sullivan is spellbinding as Sarah, the pale, responsible sister shut in by duty. Layla Khoshnoudi's Hannah, the impetuous younger sister, seems like the type of girl you would take out for a cheap beer while hoping for more. She's a great foil for Sarah’s buttoned up rationale, and both actresses give nuanced and layered performances that engage and surprise us.

Though Watkins indubitably has a gift for this pared down setting and visceral, violent language, the premise does at times fall short of the ambitions. Watkins is wise to keep "My Daughter" short, but Vicky feels like an unworthy nemesis. Nonetheless, misery in the sticks, although undercooked, is worth a gander.