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.