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.