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.