Writing the short story is essentially an act of grace. It's not a matter of will so much as trust. I try to let the story do some of the work for me. It knows what it wants to do, say, be. I try not to stand in its way.
Her grandmother, as she gets older, is not fading but rather becoming more concentrated.
Home, as far as I'm concerned, is the place you have to leave. And then, if you're like me, spend the rest of your life mourning.