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.