Husbands and lovers who thought they had the greatest trust in their partners found themselves jealous. Men who thought they were casual lovers discovered their loyalty. Sons who had once lived close to their mother and barely looked at her now poured their worry and regret into a single wrinkle on her forehead that haunted their memory. This brutal separation, unadulterated and unpredictable, left us disconcerted, unable to fight against the memory of that presence, still so close and already so far away, which now occupied our days. In truth, we suffered twice over—our own suffering first
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Camus at his best
