ON OLD AGE
Think of it as a concession: something like your Yellowstone National Park Souvenir Shops. Grandma loved being visited. By anyone. Sometimes she'd make tea for the windows so they wouldn't be embarrassed looking in. Before her demise, there were several reports of strangers wandering through her house all day like they were following a blue print. At the inquest, there was a vague memory of lines in everybody's head, but no one wanted to talk about them, let alone be precise. What was needed was someone who didn't mind a little leering. And a lot of teeth. Particularly the
canines. Grandma, wake up, it's me: Little Red.