Snazzy Snippets: let me throw confusing scenes at you

So Alyssa @ The Devil Orders Takeout and Emily @ Loony Literate are hosting this link-up called Snazzy Snippets where you share your writing. It's a lot of fun! (And you should totally do it.)

I decided to submit something for all the categories this time. Also, I'm not going to edit, because, well, I have a class soon. So hang on to your hats! (You are wearing a hat, right?)

1. a snippet with food

A flatbread of some sort and an opaque fish sat on Oddball’s wood plate.

The children chatted in dizzy circles and munched away at the. . .the colorless fish. The Arg laughed and talked with the children about their day, alternating from the Common Language to Vorban. They grabbed Rocky and him into the conversation when possible, but ‘the guests’ weren’t quite as hungry as had been expected.

Rocky gave Oddball a disgusted look. “What is this? Gelatin molded into a fish?”

“don’t be like that,” Oddball whispered back. “It’s their culture.”

“Some culture.” Rocky poked at it with a fork.

“They live in caverns. What kind of food do you expect them to eat? Besides, you haven’t even tried it yet.”

“Neither have you.”

Not much arguing with that.

He’d eaten plenty of worms in the Border. Certainly, this wasn’t any different. Except that worms didn’t have eyes staring back at you. Yeah. That, that wasn’t a problem.

No more stalling. Besides nothing could be worse than swamp spinach. A shiver went down his spine at the thought. If that wsn’t motivation enough, then nothing was.

Oddball cut off a biet and downed it. Not too bad really. Not as crunchy as a worm. Surprisingly more slimy too.

Rocky stared at him. The question in his eyes. Was it any good?

Oddball shrugged, finished it off, and forked another one from the large plate of them sitting in the middle of the floor. Still no tables or chairs.

He pretended to listen to the conversation, but kept an eye on Rocky. The guy took a bite and shivered.

“It’s slimy,” he whined to Oddball.

“Makes it go down better.”

“You’re not helping.”

2. a snippet your proud of

*skims through Word docs*

Nope.

Not that one.

Definitely NOT that one.

Okay, here's one I probably shouldn't love so much. But I can't help it okay. It's not that great as poetry goes and it's a little confusing. . .

The Story of the Shrels

nightmares stop
in children’s sleep
under the metal watchmen’s keep

but dare he stop
his metalwork
and lay his hammer down to shirk

the air so still
calm and clearer
is only then when they draw nearer

from beyond the
waters green
is only then you hear their scream

for the Shrel
its hunt is best
in the silence of its prey’s rest

it waits intently
for the quiet
so in their nightmares it may slip

awake again
they never will
but only to the living chill

of the bloodless
empty shells
whose life has left with the Shrels

lonely, longing
and wandering
mad from too much pondering

Of the Shrels
so dark and shrieking
little children do not go seeking,

keep far from
thine enemies,
seek not monsters such as these

3. your first 500 words

You can find the first scene in Oddball here!

Otherwise, let me throw some weird idea at you. I've not read over this and since I haven't officially started writing the weird idea, this is subject to change (a billion times over). And again it's confusing. . .

Dear readers,
           The past is never something to get caught up in. Its dark memories whisper to you of secrets.
Secrets you long forgot. Secrets you meant to forget. Secrets you should perhaps remember once more. But giving in is dangerous. The past will suck you under and keep you there if you are not careful. At least for me.
           You see. . . What is that infernal noise?! It scrapes and drags outside the door every few minutes.
           I’m sorry. I’ve been distracted lately. Usually I can keep it together. But, I don’t know. Things have been more on edge. I can’t seem to straighten things out. It’s too busy in my head for that. Now I know how Keth feels-
           “There’s so many voices,” he’s saying. “They normally go mad.”
           I’m sighing. Is there such a thing as normal?
           His soft brown eyes are staring into me. “But I won’t give in, Rayne. I promise”-
           No. Stop it. My thoughts are hard to control right now, I apologize. You have always been my friend. I don’t trust many people. Practically nobody. Which is exactly why I trust you, dear people of the past. You have no one to tell. There is no way you could know. And if somehow, by some weird chance this did come into your hands, well, who would believe you? You probably would not even believe me. Take it as a work of fiction. Yes, please do. I only wish it is.

Have you done the Snazzy Snippets?