Everything Sad Is Untrue (a true story)

by Daniel Nayeri

People spit on her on buses. She’s a refugee in places people hate refugees, with a husband who hits harder than a second-degree black belt because he’s a third-degree black belt. And she’ll tell you—it’s worth it. Jesus is better.

IF THERE’S ONE THING to know about my mom, it’s that she doesn’t stop. And if you don’t stop, you’re unstoppable.

But no matter how many times her husband lashed Sima with a belt, she believed. You can’t make someone stop believing something.

Another way to say it is that everybody is dying and going to die of something. And if you’re not spending your life on the stuff you believe, then what are you even doing? What is the point of the whole thing?

Men who make Committees and go around stealing mothers and hurting them, they’re just red ants killing black ants in a giant universe that has tornadoes bigger than the biggest thing we have ever built.