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.