Short Stories: Not One or the Other

To see life through oblong eyes, to walk on four instead of two, to rely on smells. How different this mortal coil would be? I wonder this every time I turn. Do I kid myself to know a thing or two about this infliction as I trot on with my soft paws? Or do I truly feel what a creature of my appearance would feel? The old question about substance and matter never leaves me alone.

But that is not the only question I ask. Along with the shape and matter comes the pondering of belonging. Am I...