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.