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.