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.