Beyond the Sands of Existence

Meursault, the protagonist from Albert Camus’s novel 'The Stranger', lay on his cot in his prison cell, enduring the deafening silence that echoed within its stone walls. It was the day after his trial, and the verdict had not fallen in his favor. Awaiting his perpetual fate, he didn't feel remorse or anxiety but a mere indifference.

One night, a peculiar dream invaded his sleep. He dreamt of a woman of celestial beauty. She had a sun-kissed face, warm like the Algerian sun itself. The woman who called herself Mersina offered Meursault an odd proposition. She claimed to be an entity capable of offering him a second chance at life.

This wasn’t a proposition Meursault could accept readily. He was a man who lived in the present, who didn’t believe in grandeur ideas of the afterlife. However, the thought of escaping his grim fate mildly interested him. Not out of fear, but out of curiosity, he agreed to her offer.

He found himself back at the beach, under the sweltering sun, where he had shot the Arab. He stood there, with the revolver in his hand, the Arab in front of him. The situation was as it was before, except that now he was aware of the consequences of his actions.

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, he paused. The idea of not pulling the trigger seemed as absurd to him as pulling it. He thought about Marie, about Raymond, about his mother. He thought about freedom, about the absurdity of life, about the totality of human existence. Minutes passed, and he remained in an eternal standoff with the Arab and the Sun.

Finally, he put the gun down. Not out of guilt or morality, but from the absurd realization that the past and the future were meaningless, and all that mattered was the present.

Waking up from his dream, Meursault found himself back in his prison cell, awaiting his impending doom. He didn’t wake up with a newfound sense of morality or a changed perspective on life. He woken up the same man who found the world absurd and irrational.

Yet, he had a strange sensation within him. For once, he had chosen not to be a stranger to the world. It didn’t change his past or his future, but it seemed to bring a strange sense of peace with his present. He lay there on his cot, looking at the small window in his cell that showed a tiny patch of sky, ready to greet death as an old friend.