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.