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.