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.