My vision blurred and I dropped to my knees on the curb to vomit. I always wondered why in the movies people throw up when they are overstressed and today I found out.

I got up with what little strength I had left and sat on the subway stairs to reflect. I wanted to know why this was happening to me. I didn't understand anything. The last thing I remember was the day before yesterday.

I arrived at my grandparents' house, they left me their house and some shares in the coffee market as an inheritance. My grandfather invested from a very young age in the coffee production and industry. His house was a beautiful old mansion and I went by there to order some things with the intention of moving in.

For years we have only used the mansion for family reunions, since we all live in the center of the city and the mansion is in the suburbs. I walked in and nostalgia came over me. I loved my grandparents, they were always a guide and a good example for me.

Everything in the house was covered with white sheets. I removed them because I had the impression that the furniture had passed away. I went up to the attic to put away some folding chairs that were getting in the way downstairs and on my way out I tripped over a box.

I went to the floor and my face hit the floor. I quickly turned around to see what it was and it was a box with my grandfather's name on the lid and the phrase: "Do not open".

-Come on Grandpa! This was the biggest invitation you ever gave me," I said with a smile. We always joke about those signs that tell you indirectly what to do.

I opened the box, inside were old photographs of my grandfather's parents. I found a clay coffee cup given to Grandpa when he visited an Indian tribe.

There were also some coffee samples. Among all these souvenirs and things of sentimental value to him, there was a small envelope containing some white beans. I looked at them and thought they were peanuts, but on one corner of the envelope, in almost imperceptible handwriting, it said: Sample of Jamaican albino coffee beans.

Accompanying the envelope was a note in my grandfather's handwriting that said that these coffee beans were cursed and should remain in the envelope.

I put everything back in the box. I spent the night at the mansion. In my dreams I had visions about the coffee, the grandfather, the man from Jamaica who gave him the samples, the indigenous cup. Everything like a whirlwind in my mind.

The next day I woke up and went to the kitchen to make myself some coffee. Turns out I hadn't bought any. Before arriving at the mansion I stopped by the supermarket to take some groceries, I could have sworn that coffee was the first thing I put in the shopping cart.

I looked through all the drawers and in the last drawer on the left, where grandma kept the coffee stash was that clear envelope of albino beans. I couldn't believe it.

-I would bet my name that I kept that envelope in the attic box.

I thought to myself as I put the albino beans in the coffee pot. I couldn't waste any more time or I would be late for the office.

While the coffee filtered, the mansion had that pleasant aroma of coffee, illusion, dreams and goals to accomplish. I felt happy as if I was floating on a cloud. I was in a dream.

I drank the cup of coffee and each sip was like an injection of energy in my veins. I hurried to the office, because that morning I had a visit from the head office finance analyst and I had to deliver the reports of our branch office. I had everything in order and the reports were impeccable as I usually do my job.

I arrived at the office and the security guard could not find my name on the list of authorized employees. I thought I was the new guy and annoyingly had to climb the 14 flights of stairs. When I got to the top, my tongue dry with exhaustion, the secretary I had shared lunch with so many times didn't recognize me. It must be because of my new haircut.

I passed without the obnoxious girl seeing me. At the end of the hallway where my office was supposed to be, a sign on the door read: janitor's room.

I felt confused and angry. I went to the boss to ask him what kind of joke this was, I was expected by the commission from headquarters. The boss stared at me like I was crazy and called security. I was kicked out of the company. I worked here for 10 years and I have the grandfather's shares. I find it disrespectful.

I walked around the city streets a bit, alone, sad and trying to figure out what's wrong with me.

At that, I felt hungry. I went to my favorite coffee shop. I have been a customer of this place for more than 10 years. I remember the first time I came here, I was studying finance in college and I fell in love with the coffee in this beautiful place.

I walked in and felt at home. My eyes filled with tears. The waiter approached me with a smile, he made me feel that everything was fine.

-Same as always please," I said as a tear ran down my cheek.

-Excuse me madam, I don't know who you are, it's the first time I see you here. Can you be more specific with your order please? said the waiter while he offered me the menu.

I ran out of the place and here I am in these stairs of the subway.

I guess I shouldn't have bet my name on the damn albino coffee beans.