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.