"Grandmother, why don't I feel?"
"Child, it is because you feel too much."
"But grandmother, I want to be like them."
"No, child. You can't. You are you and they are they. Never the twain."
"Why not, grandmother? Why won't the twains meet?"
"They are parallels child, and parallels do not meet. The lines you see meeting in the distance is illusion. Like all things."
"But why am I on this parallel, grandmother?
"This was the choice you made before the lines were lain down, love. All had their choices. Many chose the other parallel."
"Are there more on my parallel, grandmother? Am I alone?
"You are never alone, child. There are others on your parallel."
"How will I know them, grandmother?"
"By their hands reaching back to support you, child, and by those who grasp the hand you reach back to guide."
"Will I feel then, grandmother?"
"Will you let yourself, child?"