Author: Sue Lin

It’s a little after twelve, and the mall outside is doing what malls do. People stream past the windows of Millenia Walk, bags swinging, phones up, everyone late for something. I step inside Tomi Sushi…

By Sue Lin for Singapore Sushi Stories I’d ordered, and now there was nothing to do but wait. The counter was cool under my forearms, the wood worn smooth by years of elbows like mine….

By Sue Lin for Singapore Sushi Stories It’s just past two, and the lunch crowd has thinned out. Inside Tanjong Pagar Plaza, the light is flat and practical, the kind that doesn’t flatter anything. There’s…

The room was almost empty when I walked in. Just past eleven, and the sushi counter sat quiet, the fish laid out fresh under the case, glistening a little. A chef wiped down his station….

By Sue Lin for Singapore Sushi Stories I hadn’t even set down my bag when the salmon appeared. One moment I was sliding into the seat, still catching my breath, phone half out of my…

The rain came without warning, the way it always does here. One minute the sky was that flat white glare. The next, the whole street went dark and the water came down in sheets, drumming…

The mall was emptying out when my plate came rolling in. It was almost nine, that soft hour when the escalators keep moving but nobody rides them. A shutter clattered halfway down somewhere near the…

There is always one piece left. It sits at the corner of the plate, golden and quiet, while the salmon and tuna disappear first. The tamago. The folded egg. The one I always save for…

The clock had just passed noon when I stepped off the street and into the cool dim of a small sushi bar. Outside, the air shimmered above the pavement. The heat pressed against my back…

The evening air in Singapore holds onto the day’s heat long after the sun goes down. I turned off a noisy street in Tanjong Pagar, leaving the bright glow of neon signs and the endless…

The sky above Singapore rarely warns you before it breaks. One moment, the heavy afternoon sun beats down on the pavement, and the next, thick charcoal clouds roll in over the city skyline. I felt…

There’s a certain magic in watching sushi glide by. Plates spin in a steady, hypnotic rhythm, each one carrying a tiny promise, a slice of salmon, a curl of eel, a playful roll that makes…