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.