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.