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.