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.