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.