Tilly, a bank teller, then walks up to Frank and asks him why he is like an almond, and both exit with the question unresolved.

In the next scene, Lorenzo, a foreign psychologist, gives a monologue to the audience regarding his lack of emotion.

As Frances cuts Tilly's hair, they have a mundane conversation that once again turns into one about feelings, sadness, and their inner lives.

There is a brief moment of strong connection when Tilly puts her hand on Frances's cheek, but they go their separate ways.

At their apartment, Frances tells her girlfriend, Joan, a British nurse, about her encounter with Tilly.

They discuss trivial matters until Tilly begins speaking about love and her melancholy, but pauses when she questions the strange manner of her speech.

Tilly stops by Joan and Frances's place in the middle of a bike ride to tell them she is happy.

Frank refuses and continues his story, surprising Lorenzo when he reveals the woman he is speaking of is Tilly.

When Frances learns of the contents of the vial after Joan brings it home, she takes it and drinks the tears.

Joan, Frances, Frank, and Lorenzo then sing a song and lament about Tilly's newly found happiness.

Frank then reveals that he and Frances are long-lost twins shipped separately to America in packages from Scandinavia.

This version was presented at the Piven Theatre Workshop in May 2015 to June 21, directed by Polly Noonan (the original Tilly).

Many lyricists, including myself, toil endlessly to say in lyrics what Sarah says so naturally in dialogue....And suddenly it was written.

"It didn't feel fair to me to burden the production team with the pressure of reviews when we were already embarking on something so insanely ambitious, given our resources....At times as a writer one has the impulse to exist outside that cycle [relationship with the press] and burrow; to burrow in the dark, or in Brooklyn, and make something quiet and simple, and offer it without any fanfare to the audience.

But with Almond's added musical score and the dedicated and enthusiastic performances of the cast, this doesn't feel as cloying as it could be.

In fact, the music makes the quirkiness and daffiness of the characters and the fantastical situations feel far more acceptable by heightening the unreal nature of it all.

"[7] Melancholy Play premiered at the Piven Theatre, Evanston, Illinois, running from June 28, 2002, to August 4, 2002.

[8] It was later produced in October 2002 at Princeton University;[9] in May 2005 by The Echo Theater Company in Los Angeles;[10] in June 2011 by the Ensemble Theatre of Cincinnati;[11] and in January 2012 by Upstart Productions in Dallas, Texas.