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.