At Rise: The sun comes up over Lincoln City, with a warm blue and orange glow. Birds chirp, but there are no sounds yet of city life. There is an outdoor market, surrounded by natural growing Dahlia’s. There is one giant one, perky and demands attention on the set named DONALD. QUINN enters, carrying two large book bags. Her nose is in a book as she is muttering to herself. QUINN (Looks up from the book) Ascending aorta, left coronary, right coronary, left intervent… inter-ventricular branch… common…. Cold… no no… ummm… crap. I should have gone into art. Okay… umm… Ascending aorta, left coronary, common hepatic… no that was last weeks…. (She mouths several words to herself, but can’t seem to find the right word) Why do I need to know all this to shove a needle in someone’s butt…. (QUINN passes DOLAND. She stops and gives it a dirty look) QUINN You. Again. Really what do you have to be smug about Donald? You’re just a giant Dahlia. That’s nothing to get excited about. They should cut you down so that people walking by can actually see that it’s an market! Sure. You’re pretty. Not that anyone really notices, but me of course. But that doesn’t help you much does it? You’re just there taking up space. I’m trying to do something with my short time here. And guess what? I got a lot more time than you do. How do you feel about that? (Pause) Now you’re just trying to make me feel bad. Pretty things have no place in life if all they do is just sit there looking pretty. Not in the grand scheme of things anyways. (Pause, she thinks. As she thinks MAX enters carrying meat, mostly fish. He works, not paying much attention to her.) QUINN I… I guess I do see your side of things. You are kind of like me… no one to talk to… can’t talk to anyone… but yourself. But I’m not a loser, I’m not! See, a is as a no good person who doesn’t do anything but make life hard for others. I just don’t matter. But I’m trying! And besides, I don’t have time to do anything anyways. Too much school. Trying to figure out what all this… stuff means. I mean, like this. Ascending aorta. Ascending? Why is it ascending? I guess I should really know this by now, but why can’t it just be called the thing… that helps pass the thing to the other thing? It’s the same principal. But no. We got to give it complicated names cause some higher up smarty pants, with doctorates, are in love with a dead language! Just like you! Don’t you wish someone still spoke druid? Uh?... guess that means you couldn’t understand what I’m saying to you.. but since you’re a flower… you can’t anyways… wow.. That… kinda makes me sound a little crazy doesn’t it? Thanks a lot Donald!