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.