“..the whole beach was reverberating in the sun
and pressing against me from behind

the sun was beginning to burn my cheeks
and I felt drops of sweat gathering in my eyebrows

it was the same sun as on the day of Mother’s funeral
and, again, it was my forehead that was hurting me most
and all the veins were throbbing at once beneath the skin

I took a step

just one step forward

and this time, without sitting up, the Arab drew his knife and held it out towards me in the sun

it was like a long flashing sword lunging at my forehead

my whole being went tense
and I tightened my grip on the gun

the trigger gave and it was there that it all started

I realized that I had destroyed the balance of the day
the perfect silence of this beach where I had been happy

and I fired four more times into the lifeless body
and the bullets sank in without leaving a mark

and it was like giving four sharp knocks at the door of unhappiness…”

 

–The Stranger, Albert Camus