
Algiers, 1938. Meursault, a quiet and unassuming employee in his early thirties, attends his mother's funeral without shedding a tear. The next day, he begins a casual affair with Marie, a work colleague. He quickly slips back into his usual routine.
A detached, philosophical drift through a sun-drenched Algiers. It feels like watching someone exist without expectation, a quiet study in apathy and the absurd. The mood is contemplative, almost dreamlike, with a steady, unhurried rhythm.
















