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.