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Yesterday, I picked up a pack of ordinary sausages at the grocery store — nothing fancy, just a quick addition for a few sandwiches. They were on sale, and I figured they’d make a simple breakfast. The next morning, I started cooking. As I cut into the first sausage, my knife hit something hard. I assumed it was a frozen bit or a small bone — maybe a manufacturing error.
I shrugged it off and tried slicing another piece. Again, resistance. Something metallic glinted at the center. My heart skipped. I pulled it out carefully. It was a small, standard flash drive, completely intact. How on earth did it end up in my breakfast sausage? I inspected it, half in disbelief, half in excitement. I had no idea what I might find.
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