It was a short trip as compared to what I had the night before, and, since I stayed for just a couple of hours, there’s very little for me to comment. The host is one of the very few persons that I have the utmost respect, and we had the best hospitality. In fact, it is always a great fun to sit there and watch the other people.
As Horace Walpole said, the world is a tragedy to those that feel, but a comedy to those who think.
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Well, there’s another gain for me: I managed to finish with a detective fiction during the trip.
It was Watashi Ga Kare O Koroshita (我殺了他) by Keigo Higashino (東野圭吾).
Alas, it doesn’t really matter whether the story is good or not. (It is damn good.) When I was a final year student, I used to read a detective fiction (usually Agatha Christie or Ellery Queen) every Saturday, and I really cannot remember when was the last Saturday that I had such a privilege ever since I graduated.
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