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.