MICHAEL (stuttering)
I have a friend who's involved in distribution or errands. I'll talk to him. Maybe he needs someone reliable.
YORAM (completely indifferent)
I'll pay him a visit.
FADE OUT
EXT. DAY. ROTHSCHILD BOULEVARD IN TEL AVIV
The Prophet stands under the scorching sun, addressing a small crowd of about ten people gathered around a bench.
Sweat trickles down the Prophet's forehead, blurring his vision. He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. In the background, the glass towers of insurance companies line Rothschild Boulevard. A curious policeman approaches and stands behind the group, contemplating what action to take. After a brief pause, he chooses not to take any action and quietly walks away. Several black crows perch on a nearby bench and the ground, observing the crowd of people. They echo their own chorus, overshadowing his message.
As the concludes his speech, he steps down from the bench, and the crowd, though small, creates a path for him to pass through. Even a long while after he's gone, the people remain, engaged in conversation.
EXT. DAY. DOWN THE AVENUE
Yoram walks along the boulevard, heading towards the sea. Michael follows behind, half walking and half running, gasping for breath.