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.