L'Étranger

When the bell rang once more, when the door of the dock opened, it was the silence of the courtroom that rose up towards me, the silence, and that strange sensation I had when I noticed that the young journalist had looked away. I did not look towards Marie. I did not have the time, because the presiding judge told me, in a bizarre form of words, that I would have my head cut off in a public square in the name of the French people….