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.