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.