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.