Allegro continues the tale of Fiona and her European travels with Ellen, her marriage and answers the question: How do you remember love? In “Allegro,” Fiona has come out of her coma but remains stuck in the past and the duality of marriage and love. Fiona is forced to reconcile the memories and love for the husband in her heart with the one in her memories. As she continues to recall her love(s), we are reminded that no matter the time period nor changes in society, love is a constant, especially in our memories. There is always a time, a place, and a chance to love. Do you, remember, love?

An Excerpt from Allegro

“Fiona said, “No, I’m on the Love Boat. This is my honeymoon. You arranged it for me. Daddy, what have you done with Kurt?” “Actually, Miss, could tell me, who is the President of the United States?” said the doctor. “Well that one is easy, George Bush.” Fiona said, “Yes, that’s it. Why do you want to know about Mr. Bush, has something happened?” she said, questioning. “I’m your doctor, you are in the hospital. Your Mother and Father have been sitting vigil in your room ever since you were brought in here two months ago.” The voice paused, rather, the doctor paused. “Hospital? Where am I?” Fiona said, as the alarm bells in her head were suddenly going off and were now showing on her face. “Fiona, listen to me now,” her Father said firmly. “It is the year 2015, they told us that after your swimming workout at the YMCA you fell in the showers and hit your head pretty hard. They rushed you here and you’ve been in a coma ever since.” “A coma?” Fiona said. “Doctor, am I alright?” She said in her dream. “B-E-E-P.” There it was again. Each time someone had come into or exited her room when the door was open, the too familiar “B-E-E-P” invaded the privacy of her hospital room and now the silence of her dreams. She knew that if she was ever going to wake up to another alarm clock, she wouldn’t have the alarm tone be set to beep; she would, instead, choose something else, something more soothing. Perhaps, she thought, the operas of Wagner on a sound machine, set to wake her up at the appointed hour. Perhaps the first opera he wrote, dedicated to a town he knew only too well, Füssen: Opus 1.”