L'estrany

Meursault is the indifferent man, who lives on the sidelines of life, letting himself be carried away. The routine is mechanically perpetuated from Monday to Saturday. Until it's Sunday again... and then maybe you get asked to marry you and you don't know if you want to, or you find yourself with a gun in your hands, the sun blinds you, and the trigger pulls softly. Does one have to reach a borderline situation for one to realize that one is alive and regain hope of survival? What can be but indifferent to the awareness of inescapable death?