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.