Everything Sad Is Untrue (a true story)

by Daniel Nayeri

The secret police of the Supreme Leader of the new government. In our city of Isfahan, they were the shadows on every wall. The invisible claw of the Supreme Leader. They could do anything. Their sudden raids on homes would make families disappear. They tortured people to get information about who was breaking Islamic law. And anyone could be helping them. If the old lady across the street saw a satellite dish on your roof, or a picture of the old king in your kitchen—you’d make eye contact with her on the way to your trash can, and you’d realize she had a hammer over your head. She could tell the Committee and you’d disappear. People suspected their own cousins and dreaded their own children. In the middle of assignments, teachers would hold up a picture of a whiskey bottle and ask if anyone recognized it. An eager six-year-old might raise her hand, and come home to find a ransacked house and Daddy gone.