Last Light at Kuala Sepetang
It arrives in waves, not all at once. Not the fireflies—those come later, after the sky has finished its performance….
It arrives in waves, not all at once. Not the fireflies—those come later, after the sky has finished its performance….
The rain had been falling for three hours when a taxi driver in George Town offered a piece of advice…
The roti canai that matters most in Kuala Lumpur isn’t the one you eat at breakfast. It’s the one you’re…
The first refusal came through the screen door, polite but final. I’d been told by three different people at the…
The first thing that hit me was the carbon. Not the wispy, romanticized wok hei you read about in food…
The man at the rental counter in Jerantut had a patient way of explaining things I hadn’t asked about. He…
The road from Kuala Kubu Bharu to Fraser’s Hill is forty-one kilometres long, and the first thirty are uneventful in…
The first thing I noticed was the cold. Not the kind that bites, but the kind that seeps — damp…
The afternoon I picked up the Proton Saga from the lot in Tanah Rata, the man behind the counter told…
The first thing I noticed about the mural on Lebuh Muntri wasn’t the paint itself but the way the morning…