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.