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.