The last thing Evan Trista remembered was the liquid level in his coffee cup tilting.
It was an ordinary action - he was picking up his cup, about to drink his fourth cup of coffee of the day, and then he noticed that the coffee was crooked in the cup. It doesn't spill out, but it feels like it's being held down by an invisible hand, sticking to the wall of the cup to form an impossible slope.
Intention: a place of corruption