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.