Of course, this is fiction. The line becomes blurred when Fischerova includes in the narrator's persona autobiographical details of an author who will, or has, written the story we are reading. These documents of childhood and discovery thus become tales told within, and yet outside, chronological time. The author surrenders her authority by admitting that time will add no further insight once the words are written. This is her fictional honesty.
Characters age and accumulate hindsight only to the extent that the author has put it there.
The flavor of real human doubt percolates through. It is this, a grasping after the core of what defines a person and their relationship to the world, that elevates the stories above their quotidian facades. Pointing fingers occur repeatedly in these stories, and Fischerova uses the image with extreme effectiveness. It grabs and focuses the reader's attention. The interplay, the relationship, between reality and the grasping of reality is pointed to over and over.