Sophia is sitting again in the kitchen preparing a cup of coffee after work. Today again she talked to her friend Miranda, who is now regularly meeting her two philosophical companions. Sophia feels that Miranda is not any more interested in talking to her.

That does not matter because she can read philosophical texts by herself. Besides she has heard that there is a philosophical café in town. Maybe there she can meet people eager to think together with her and discuss philosophical topics. But, isn´t that a selfish waste of time? Her life is most probably not going to change for talking and reflecting about herself and the world with other people. It will also not change if she does not. Isn´t there something pointless in people’s existence?

Maybe there is a war and we all die, she thinks. We can´t avoid it. And still we want to live. Why? Is it just an instinct? And what is even more strange: We like to talk about these issues. We like to talk about what happens to others and the world. Why? Is it because we are escaping from our own immediate reality? Would it be better if we would just limit our thoughts to what concerns us directly? Should we only talk about our own feelings? How can we know what will affect us in some way in the future, or even about what are the causes of what is affecting us now? How can we be sure about anything at all really? How can we be sure about perceiving our own emotions in a more or less transparent way? Why do we like to talk if we cannot be sure about anything we and the others think and say anyway?

Sophia remembers that there was a philosopher that dealt with the lack of meaning of life´s existence. His name was Albert Camus. She thinks of googling him. She is sure she will find some text from him that she can read. And she will visit that philosophical café. The children will have to stay alone that night. They are not that small anymore anyway, she thinks.