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.