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.