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.