The flickering red and blue light illuminated my face with a lost look. The lifeless body of a subject was on the ground in front of me and in my trembling hands I held an old collectible coffee can. I put it in the hands of a policeman and told him that they were late.

I slowly walked towards the police car with those cursed lights. I sat in the back seat and closed the door. All this voluntarily. Once we got to the police station and I was under the bright interrogation light I began my story:

Weeks ago I felt that someone was following me. My routine has been the same for 20 years, I leave home at 7am, I arrive at the cafeteria on the corner that belongs to my friend Don Pedro, I sit at my table that whenever it is empty that hour to order an espresso with a touch of vanilla and the local newspaper.

I finish my cup of coffee with very small sips, I like to enjoy the taste and smell of the coffee while learning about the disasters in the world. Then I take my leather briefcases and leave the place. I lead a calm and carefree life.

One afternoon I discovered that someone was following me. I felt watched at work, I felt persecuted in the cafeteria and at home. It was very uncomfortable to feel like a fish in a fishbowl. I decided to tell everything to Don Pedro who promised to help me find out who was following me.

This is how the days went by and the stress and pressure was killing me. Until yesterday Don Pedro handed me a napkin with the details of the man who was following me.

I quietly looked for it. He looked disheveled and talked to himself. The persecutor became the persecuted. I followed him to his house, a very nice place and it was clear that he had money so it was not to take my belongings that he followed me. He entered his house and I stayed on the other side of the street thinking. Until I decided to face it.

I called the police and went across the street to knock on the door of his house. He opened and was surprised. The man froze. I asked him why he was following me and he told me that days ago he crashed into me in the street and with the blow he fell to the ground with all his things. I stopped and helped him to his feet and then handed him his things. He told me that this gesture had given him the opportunity to feel alive that people usually ignore and minimize.

The man seemed disturbed, making strange gestures when speaking. I realized it wasn't quite normal and I remembered bumping into a man on the street weeks ago. But the story was not as told, he was upset and it was he who hit my shoulder and bounced to the ground. I kindly picked him up and handed him his stuff and he went off grumbling.

The man invited me into his house, but I told him it would be fine outside. He went to the living room and brought me an old coffee can, the kind that is collected. I opened it and inside there were pictures of me drinking coffee, a napkin that I used days before and he took from the trash. Photos of my house and my office. What caught my attention the most was that in all the photos I was drinking coffee.

-It's the way you drink coffee. And the frequency that is almost 24 hours a day with a cup in your hand. That is not from this world- said the man while my eyes filled with tears, because I realized that he was crazy.

The subject with a crazy voice told me that what I was drinking was the drink with which the beings from space controlled us and that he was sure that the potion he had made would help keep him safe.

I panic. I felt that my body froze inside and I asked him if he had taken anything. The man pointed me to the table in the living room and I quickly went in to see what was there. Chlorine, and disinfectants in a cup of coffee. The subject in his madness drank that deadly mixture and collapsed before me.

And that's how my uncontrolled way of drinking coffee all day marked my life and ended the life of this poor boy.