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.