"Let me have yours, then." a man volunteered from the other side of the table, I tried to hand over my share to him, then the young cook warned," a piece only per person. Please donlt give yours to others beyond prescription."
"Maybe, that's the fatal dose." people laughingly joked for a while and their as8luring remarks eased my stubborn reluctance. I timidly ate a piece of fugu liver for the first time inmy life while all my friends closely watched me!
"My lips are hot and burn," I said. "It's because of spices," they assured me and laughed.
After the fugu dinner, we dropped in at another place and came home together: we decided to take advantage of the occasion and play mah-jong.
Approximately four hours had passed after the fugu meal - I was not the only person who felt numb on finger tips. "Probably we ate poison today," someone said. "My finger tips won't hold a piece of mah-jong ," someone else joined. We all felt something out of ordinary but nobody took the matter seriously.
