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.