The Last Confession
Saw The Last Confession with David Suchet in the production tonight at the Theatre Royal. Rather good, indeed. And not boring at all, which was a definite bonus!
Wine was had, as well as deconstructed pork buns. One day I may learn that these deconstructed pork buns are actually called something else. That day is not today. Nor is that night tonight.
Why is there only such a thing as one type of night, whereas we have three types of day? (Night versus dawn/day/dusk.) (Or at least I count dawn and day and dusk to be versions of daytime.)