A pop of glass opening, bright light seeps inside. A gentle hand the length of my body picks me up from under my arms and seats me in a dollhouse armchair. I watch as the giant girl in the Facility's uniform scrubs her hands in a sink as large as a swimming pool. She is a kind of nurse, I think. My wife was a nurse, though in our day, the Facility didn't exist. I am handed a pair of sunglasses while my eyes adjust to the natural light.
?How are you feeling today, Mr Donnelly?? her voice booms.
When I am presentable, she brings me to the visiting area. I sit in an armchair, more comfortable than the last, watching vast visitors speak to their doll-sized relatives. I once heard a story about a family who brought home their shrunken grandma from the Facility, only to have her chewed up by her once beloved dog.