THEY TELL  ME: "WE ARE  GOING TO  SHRINK 
 YOU."  I  DON'T  QUITE  LIKE THE TONE IN 
 THEIR VOICES, LIKE THEY ARE  RESTRAINING 
 THEMSELVES. THERE  IS  A  HUNGER IN THEM 
 AND  IT WANTS  ME  TO  SHRINK.  AND WHAT 
 REALLY  IRKS  ME  IS   THAT   SO  DO  I. 
                                          
 THEY  GIVE  ME  WRISTBANDS  AND ANKLETS, 
 MADE   OF  SOME   STRANGE  STONE.  THEIR 
      SURFACE IS SWIRLING, LIKE DARK      
   THUNDERSTORMS TRAPPED IN GLASS, LIKE   
 WINDOWS  INTO A SMALLER  WORLD, CLOSE TO 
 MY BODY  SO  THAT  IT  CAN  SEE  CLEARLY 
              WHATS IN STORE.             
                                          
 THEY GIVE  ME FOOD: PRAWN-LIKE BUGS THAT 
 MAKE  MY  TONGUE CURL WITH SATISFACTION. 
 "OUT OF THIS  WORLD", I THINK, HAVING NO 
 FRAME OF  REFERENCE. I EAT ONLY TWO, BUT 
      THE BUGS LEAVE ME SUSPICIOUSLY      
                SATISFIED.                
                                          
 THEY MEASURE  MY CLOTHES. "YOU ARE GOING 
 TO BECOME ABOUT HALF  AS BIG", THEY TELL 
  ME, BARELY CONTROLLING THEMSELVES WITH  
              ANTICIPATION.