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,,,###,,#, 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. ##,,,,,,,,
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,,###,,#,# they give me wristbands and anklets, ,###,,,,,,
,,#,##,,,# made of some strange stone. their ,#,##,,,,,
,,,,###,,# surface is swirling, like dark ,,,###,,,,
,,,,#,##,, thunderstorms trapped in glass, like #,,#,##,,,
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,,,,,,#,## my body so that it can see clearly ,,#,,#,##,
,,,,,,,,## whats in store. #,,#,,,###
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##,,,,,,,, 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 #,,,,,#,,#
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,,#,,#,##, they measure my clothes. "you are going ,,,#,,,,,#
#,,#,,,### to become about half as big", they tell ,,,,#,,,,,
,#,,#,,#,# me, barely controlling themselves with #,,,,#,,,,
,,#,,#,,,# anticipation. ##,,,,#,,,
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