Hackworth was alone and separate from all humanity, a feeling he had grown 
up with, like a childhood friend living next door. He had found Gwen by some 
miracle and lost touch with that old friend for a few years, but now he and 
solitude were back together, out for a stroll, familiar and comfortable. A 
makeshift bar amidships had drawn a dozen or so congregants, but Hackworth knew 
that he could not join in with them. He had been born without the ability to 
blend and socialize as some are born without hands.