an effective rhythm, and not just because of the periodic live music and video episodes -- or the thump of a heartbeat (that sound is really too cliched to be effective). The flights of fancy take off with considerable expressive flair; tender and bittersweet scenes are nicely handled.

De Mahy also designed the set, which includes a pit filled with stuffed animals that seem ever on the verge of animation. Several artists contributed to the evocative film projections. Chelsey Schuler's costumes do the trick.  

Alora is an intriguing character, whose previous escapes into an imaginary world have given her a most creative impulse. The dark medical news she receives sets that impulse into overdrive, inspired initially by the ironic nine-month factor in her prognosis -- the first thing Alora invents is a pregnancy.

Susannah Edwards is telling in the role, deftly conveying the gentle soul behind the desperation. Nathan A. Cooper likewise does vivid work as the angst-ridden, vulnerable Linus.

One of the best moments in the play, one that will resonate with anyone who has lost (or is afraid of losing) a loved one, comes when Linus expresses his deep fear of losing Alora. Her simple response: "You won't be alone." Cooper and Edwards make that small exchange remarkably touching.

Alora's imaginary brothers -- she must have watched a lot of "The Three Stooges" as a kid -- are portrayed with vocal and physical flourish by Kaveh Haerian (Neal), Nathan Fulton (Owen), and Mike Zemarel (Arthur).

Jessica Garrett and Paul Wissman handle their dual assignments deftly. Melissa Wimbish and David Kellam, as a spectral Cuban couple, move stylishly through the play.

The finely matched musicians -- Madeline de Mahy, Paul Diem, Jeremy Durkin -- and the colorful, folksy score (a collaborative effort) add greatly to the atmospheric layering of the production.

PHOTOS (by Chris Hartlove) COURTESY OF SINGLE CARROT THEATRE