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.