(..) hearing one evening screaming in the street like cows and lambs in the slaughterhouse. As it continues I look over the balcony and see an empty street but one young man in regular Tel Avivian outfit. A normal person, hands and arms in a cramp, bending over to get maximum pressure from his lungs and scream in hysteria continuously. I ask to translate what the person says, he says ‘call the police they’re killing Israël’. At the crossing he stops screaming. He gets out of sight. We don’t hear him anymore.