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.