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.