I had assumed that, eventually, things would fall. Earth's gravity only works to a certain extent. After that, I needed to assume an appropriate pose to dive in. I remembered a time before the day I dived in when I slept under a pear tree. My doctor put their hand in their pocket (دستشو توی جیبش کرد) and took out a pear with me hanging on it, which appeared in front of their eyes I should have fallen to the ground, but the force of gravity was pushing me to cling to the pear. My doctor then put me in a cart, and we headed down to the next booth (غرفه) to buy fresh celery and carrots. The next booth had some super expensive honey, but we ended up buying some apples. When we got home, there was a ladder leading up to the sink, and we all climbed it together, the onion and celery and I.

I should have realized that eventually, we would fall down, but we all tried our best pose to dive into the sink. My doctor picked up the strainer, and I rotated like a Ferris wheel but much faster. Finally, I passed through the drain.

I should have realized that inside pipes, there is always infinite darkness. I was suspended for an hour and couldn't see anything in that darkness. Lights came and went, but eventually, a spotlight fell on me. I could see myself and a hundred others suspended in the dark air in this pipe. I decided not to set a light above us.

The spotlight is on us now, but I must confess that I find it hard to talk about you, Iran. The mere thought of you makes my head spin and my stomach ache. Sometimes, I intentionally try to ignore you and push away memories of your streets, weather, and even your famous pistachios.

There is always a moment for me lying down under a pear tree; lying under shadow makes me think about you. I found myself captivated by a single street and couldn't help but set its photo as my phone background. Every thought and action was related to reproducing Iran’s walls and soil. I know it sounds shallow, but I couldn't stop myself from obsessing over it.

As I lifted my hand from under my head, I realized I couldn't feel it. Suddenly, the sensation of nothingness consumed me, and I watched in a daze as one of the pears I had been clung to began to roll down the hill. It collided with my doctor's shoes, creating a meeting point between myself, the pear, and the shoes. Looking back, I realize that this was the moment when the story truly began.