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.