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.