He is lying on a low trolley his legs splayed behind him, and he speaks in a desperate pleading voice into a microphone. The small sound system is run of a car battery, both of which are is placed in front of him. This amplifies and distorts his already otherworldly voice. His gaze is downward towards the pavement. The hooded boy who may or may not be his son, is pulling the trolley very slowly down the street. The pair make their way through the shopping streets in the centre of the city.