INT. CAFE - DAY Selvi sits at a small wooden table, her camera resting on the table in front of her. Her face shows a mix of confusion and distress. A tall man walks in - DETECTIVE HUNTER. His uniform looks a bit worn and there are a few days' worth of stubble on his face. He looks around until his gaze lands on Selvi. He approaches her table. HUNTER Excuse me. Are you Selvi? Selvi looks up at him, a bit startled. She tilts her head questioningly. SELVi [misinterpreting] Do you want to see my photos? Hunter smiles politely. HUNTER No, ma'am. I'm here on official police business. He shows Selvi his badge. She examines it warily and looks up at him, eyes wide. SELVi [jumbling Hindi words] Police? Police ... A moment passes, and she realizes Hunter doesn't appear to understand Hindi. Selvi gathers herself and tries to speak English, reluctantly. SELVi I ... I think I may have seen something. Last night ... Hunter leans in, clearly intrigued. HUNTER Did you see someone acting suspicious last night? Someone seem out of place in town? SELVi [tense] Maybe? The sky ... the apples. They were falling. Not raining. Falling. Not like the sky was sick but dying. She points her hands up at the nonexistent ceiling, speaking more rapidly to convey the image. HUNTER The apples ... were coming down from the sky? Selvi nods vigorously and continues speaking in the mix of English and Hindi she often resorts to. SELVi Like cancer has diet'ed your favourite food. You can't stop eating it but you throw it up so it lands on your lap. She makes circular motions with her hands, cheeks flushed. HUNTER [attempting sympathy] That's not a very nice analogy for the sky falling, Selvi. He shakes his head in confusion as she speaks more rapidly, her gestures growing more animated. SELVi [frustrated] Hindi ... speak ... Hindi? Hunter holds up his hands in a "slow down" gesture, the call to his wife ringing into the cafe. HUNTER [on the phone] Julie? I've got a lead right here. He frantically scribbles down a street name, getting increasingly flustered as Selvi continues talking - his mind desperately trying to assemble meaning from the foreign words. Suddenly, Hunter ends his phone call. HUNTER [sighing] Okay, when we find this 'District M', we'll call you, Selvi. Meanwhile, maybe do try to be a bit more self-aware when communicating on the street in a foreign country. SELVi [slight smile after Hunter's painfully awkward but accurate observation on her idiosyncrasy] Thank you for your ... your husbandly wisdom. HUNTER [curt nod] Good chatting. He turns to leave, but pauses. HUNTER Oh, just to my last met you, ah ... Selvi. What's your religion? *** **Continued in the next voice sheet دمشقuser