From outside the restaurant seems small and intimate, like the entrance to a house. A rectangular pond has been dug flat into the pavement. There are goldfish in it and little else- orange flames on the surface, flickering slowly over weeds. There is a fat stone slab for a bridge. A Sushi menu hangs by the door. The writing is red; Japanese characters on laminated white. Some are black, and when you look closely the black ones are in fact scratchy drawings: big fish, small fish, eel, octopus, squid, shrimp, and a prawn. I have to duck to get inside. The first room is dark and buzzing with excitement. From somewhere I can hear laughter- a roar, high pitched screams, clapping and singing. From the kitchen comes the hot waft of a deep fat fryer. I’m
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