But as the panic slowly faded, logic stepped in. I compared it to the rest of the pork, noticed how it connected along the grain, how it matched the structure of the meat. Piece by piece, it made sense: it was just a tendon, a strip of connective tissue that sometimes stays in even when the meat is well prepared. Nothing alive. Nothing sinister. Just a very ordinary part of the animal that gave me an unforgettable scare.
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