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.