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.