I walk outside, but cannot feel the warmth of the sun.
I can see it on every new leaf, softly caressing them, bringing them to life.
But not me. The sun does not reach my skin.
I cannot feel the breeze sighing through the trees, or smell the fresh, spring blossoms. Come to think of it, where is the ground? I look down, and it is there. I pull these lifeless legs along, these legs that don’t feel the ground or the breeze or the sun. They seem so heavy. I begin my aimless trek, feeling no ground and no breeze and no sun, walking without purpose through my small town. People lope by, and I smile the warmest smile I can muster, but no one takes notice. They keep on their way, heads pointed straight ahead, faces blank.
I reach out in my anguish, and attempt to gain the attention of these strangers passing by. They seem to recoil at my evidently cold touch, but it does not faze them, and they continue in their paths. My pace quickens. What am I fleeing from? I am trapped between two dimensions. I am here, but no one is aware of my existence. I can see, but I cannot speak, or cry out in sorrow, or feel the ground or the breeze or the sun, and I cannot smell those fresh spring blossoms.
Why are they not able to see me? I am lost, caught in the middle of two worlds much greater than this one. So, what am I to do now? Where do I go from here?