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.