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.