We leaned in closer—and our blood ran cold. Those “seeds” were actually moving. Tiny, almost transparent spheres with dark dots inside. They were eggs. Some kind of insect eggs. Right there in the food.
First came the shock, then the screaming. Waiters rushed over, trying to explain, but we were already calling an ambulance. We had no idea what creature had laid those eggs—or whether we had eaten any. My friend started panicking—out of fear or nausea.
At the hospital, they examined us, ran tests, prescribed medication “just in case,” and told us to monitor for symptoms.
As for the restaurant—they tried to excuse it as a “technical error” or “spoiled ingredients from a supplier,” but it didn’t matter. After a dinner like that, trust is gone.
Ever since then, every time I see chia seeds—I remember that night.
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