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.