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.