Libro El Extranjero: De Albert Camus

He opened his mouth to the dawn.

His neighbor, Salamano, beat his mangy dog. Another neighbor, Raymond, a pimp with a greased mustache, called Meursault “a pal.” Meursault didn’t feel friendship. He felt Raymond was there, and then not there. Still, he wrote a letter for Raymond to lure a woman to be beaten. Why? Because Raymond asked. Because the afternoon was hot. Because saying no would have required a reason. libro el extranjero de albert camus

Meursault looked at him. “It would be a lie.” He opened his mouth to the dawn

The Day the Sky Went Quiet

“Would you say you loved your mother?” asked the prosecutor, a man with a velvet voice and a steel soul. He felt Raymond was there, and then not there

One Sunday, the sun was a blade. Raymond’s Arab mistress’s brother followed them to a spring by the beach. He drew a knife. It glittered. Meursault held Raymond’s revolver. The heat pressed down—a silent, heavy lid. The sea gasped. The sand burned through his soles.