Where is Here? By Joyce Oates

From the text:

The mother entered the kitchen walking slowly as if she`d been struck a blow. In fact, a bruise the size of a pear would have materialized on her forearm by morning. When she reached out to steady herself, she misjudged the distance of the doorframe-or did the doorframe recede an inch or two?-and nearly lost her balance. In the kitchen, the lights were dim and an odor of sourish smoke, subtle but unmistakable, made her nostrils pinch.