# The Two Angels [Fiction]

The woman with white wings was looking down, at the ash-like remains of the old house. There was a satisfying smile on her face, as she listened to the pairs last breaths.

She could feel the fluttering near her and she saw one of black winged people. The blacked winged one took a small child from the remains. Somehow it survived.

The black winged one took the child in her arms, as she sang him a lullaby. The child had fallen asleep.

The white-winged one joined the black winged one, but not looking at them.

"I won't apologize."

The black winged nodded, and stood up, stretching the wings.

"I know."

She flown into the sky with the baby, and the white-winged one soon followed.

# The World Of Mathematical Logic [Fiction]

I see this place different from normal people. The place, where everything is logical. Where the decisions are simple. Either yes or no. Everything boils down to this two answers.

There are lines everywhere. Linear function like lines, that make amazing shapes, but simply bending around. All of them following mathematical principles.

I like the π. It is logical and all the information on the world are inside this little letter. A concept of infinity.

I hope the people in white will not make me forget about this world today. Sometimes they do. They make everything misty. They say, that I am not normal. That what I see is not real.

But the world comes back after a while. Every single time. They can not destroy it. Because to me, that world is more real than theirs.

# Unwilling Bird [Fiction]

Once upon a time, there was a bird. The bird did not know its mother, nor its father.

It lived alone, in the factory, looking down on people. Watching them. Analysing them.

It puzzled the little bird, who were these big ant-like beings? They came every day, every morning. They ordered themselves along the moving line. They left when the night had fallen.

One day, there was something different. Somebody came, made a lot of noise and all of them left. The bird followed them. But seeing that, it had run away. Until the wings were too painful to continue.

These thing were nothing like ants.

# Writing Addiction [Fiction]

I was going crazy. Whoever advised going cold turkey to fight addiction did not know him. I just wanted it to stop. But it won't, right?

I give up. I picked the pen up and started to write. The words were flying from my hand. The words came to life. The people talked to one another.

I know I will eventually lost myself to the stories. I will become just another part of their world.

My psychiatrist did not believe me. She thought that writing is destroying my mental health.

It is reversal. It is the only thing keeping me save. Stopping all the voices inside my head.

Eventually disappearing does not sound like such a bad deal anymore.

# Midnight Date

The boy was sitting there. He did not want to move, as he pushed his knees a little closer to himself.

He could hear the person climbing to tree. There was a snap of one of the big brunches, and the person uttered one of the words his taller mother is always scolding his older sister for.

The mumbling can be heard, followed by the soft knocking on the glass.

"Julia?" The voice of the teenage boy was heard.

The boy looked up. That was his sister name. Did the intruder wanted to do something to her? He slowly stood up, knowing he has a water gun stashed not far from him. He has to protect her.

"Julia?" the teenager was louder now. The knocking came back.

The boy had reached the gun and pointed it at the window. But even he was aware, that the water would only hit the glass at this point. He hoped that he will not enter.

"Julia, are you here?" The teenager was now speaking in the normal loudness and was sounding irritated now.

He tried the windows, but they were unlocked. He slowly pried it open and entered the room. He looked around, looking confused.

At that moment he got a water in his face and a scream of a child. He wiped his face off, and realized that the child is still standing there, point a water gun at him.

He grabbed a child and took the gun from his hands. The boy screamed.

The three pair of steppes could be heard, hurrying into the room. The doors were opened and three women entered the room.

"Julia? I -"

"Unhand him." the youngest of the group said, as he walked to them and pulled the boy from his grasp, hugging him.

"Are you all right, Eric?" she asked him, as he looked at him, petting his head.

"I though he was a intruder." the boy said, as he almost started to cry.

The shorter woman came closer and she took the boy to her. He quickly hugged her and bury his head in her clothes.

Julia turned to the intruder. "Get out." she said, as she pointed to the door.

"Julia, bun, don't be unreasonable." he said, his hands up.

"I said get out, Mark."

"But -"

"You heard the lady, young boy." the other woman still standing in the doorway said. "I suggest you find your way out."

He looked from one to another. Then he did the smart thing and get out of there as soon as possible.

"I will make sure he gets out." she said, as he left the room.

Julia turned to Eric and her mother. He was already explaining to her, how he wanted to protect her sister. She smiled. Nobody hurts her family.

# Pretence [MCU / BBC Sherlock Fanfiction]

Natasha entered the bar. As she looked around, she noticed Clint talking and drinking with a soldier. She hoped that Clint was not having any alcohol. He was impossible to deal with when drunk.

The person opposite of him laughed at something Clint said. She could not use lipreading since Clint was turned with the back towards her.

She walked to their table, waving as she approached them.

"Natasha, nice of you to join us," Clint welcomed her with a smile on his face, as he stood up and put the hand on her back.

"Miss Royston, pleasure to meet you." John stood up, shaking hands with her. "John Watson."

"I hope that he is not bothering you," Natasha glared at Clint. They were on a mission, and they did not have time to mess around with unrelated people. Especially not a goody-all solder.

"Not at all. Your fiancé is a great company,"

"He can also be annoying as hell," she said with a smile as she straightened Clint hair and kissed him on the cheek. She felt better, when Clint tensed.

"Will you join us?" asked John. "Unless if you have somewhere else to be?"

He did not appear to be saying that only out of politeness. She glanced at Clint and she smiled. "Not at all."

They sat down and John tried to wave down the waiter. But Natasha decided to check what Clint was drinking. It looked like orange juice. She took a sip, and it was only orange juice.

"Thirsty?"

The waiter came and Natasha ordered the same drink that Clint was having. He took the order and left.

"He is just horrible with alcohol." she said.

"Clint is not an alcoholic, right?"

By now John was inspecting Clint.

"I am not," Clint said as he was sulking.

"You just become uncontrollable when drunk." she nudged Clint into his stomach. "There was one time, when he danced on the table, and when the police came, he managed to steal their car and drive away."

"Borrowed. Also, nobody was hurt."

"If you don't count a couple of birds and that lamp." Natasha rolled her eyes.

Clint had turned away from her. He should know better than to try to mess with her.

John started to laugh, trying to be as discreet as possible. Probably out of politeness.

"Still better than that time you started to explain in great detail how the babies are made in a kindergarten." Natasha now looked at him, her eyebrow raised. She smiled at him in a way that made him shiver.

"Our child deserves to know the truth. The other parents overreacted." Clint nudged her with the elbow.

"But did he understand anything? Clint mentioned that your son is almost one." John looked confused.

"I was talking about my daughter. She is already 5 years old." Natasha scrutinized him as she tried to figure out if he was convinced.

"From previous marriage?"

"Yes," Clint said. "You should meet her. She is the smartest girl ever."

The waiter came with Natasha's juice. She smiled at the him, grateful for a little distraction.

Clint stood up. Natasha grabbed his hand. "Just toilet. Be right back."

Natasha glared at him, but she released him nonetheless. She looked after him, before turning to John. There is no way to know what Clint had already told him about them.

"So, John. What do you do for a living?" Asking people about them was always the safe road. As long as she could keep the attention away from herself.

"Captain in the army. But a doctor by education," John took another sip of his tea.

"An army doctor then?" Natasha took another sip.

"Not exactly." John was squirming in his seat. "I just wanted some more action."

Natasha leaned forward. Maybe Clint actually managed to find somebody useful.

John suddenly started talking with more energy. "I would just end up being a doctor in some smaller city, marrying a girl and volunteering at the cat shelter. Seemed kind of boring."

"Allergic to cats." Natasha shrugged. "I do understand the feeling."

Clint came back and sat next to them again. He hugged Natasha and kissed her. "Hope you did not wait long."

"You could have stayed away longer."

"No love for me." said Clint, rolling his eyes, "But she can be moody, if she stays too long away from her cat."

Now Natasha dredged him with the elbow. As he glanced at her, she put her finger under the nose. She hoped that he will realize what she meant.

"You know how women are with their turtles."

"I imagine it is not that different from other pets."

With these words John attention was caught by something happening behind them. Natasha followed his eyes and she saw two people glaring at each other. She heard John sighed.

"I need to go." He put some money for his drink on the table. "Nice meeting you. Hope you manage to marry soon."

Natasha nodded and Clint and John shook hands. John left toward the two people that were already throwing unsavoury words towards each other.

Natasha glared at Clint. "The next time you introduce us as a couple, I would like some more advance notice."

He rolled his eyes at her, as he took his juice. "Relax. It is not like we are ever going to meet him again."

Natasha scanned the group fighting, and she saw that John managed to convince somebody to leave with him. "Hope you are right."

# Your Couch is More Comfortable [MCU Fanfiction]

It was late at night, when Natasha entered her apartment inside of Stark's tower. Letting the bag fall to the floor, she took the hair-band from her hair. How she hated these things.

But as she relaxed her hair, she froze, noticing the presence of another person in a room. She took a gun from her holster and slowly moved to look over the whole room.

She noticed the silhouette on the couch, raising the gun a it. The black hair and the clothes were easily distinguishable, so she knew exactly who it was. Tony. He was slipping there as a baby, not even moving, even though she pointed the gun at him.

She rolled her eyes and relaxed. She still made the whole round around the room, before moving the gun to the nearby table.

She removed her cloths, as she took the shower, making sure that all the sweat was removed from her skin. It was nice to have a place with the hot water.

She was surprised that even with her not being that quiet, Tony still did not move. It was a little surprise for her, but then again, he constantly listens to his music in a way too loud volume, it must have had some effect on his hearing.

She wanted to go to her room, but then she looked back at the doors. She changes her mind and went to the nearby wardrobe and retrieved the blanket from it. She came closer to the Tony, making sure that he is well covered. She thought about removing his shoes as well, but then decided against it.

The next morning she showed her surprise with blinking, when Tony was still there on her couch. Exactly as she left him yesterday. Which was unusual, but not much more than some of the other things Tony did.

She looked at the clock and it was 11 in the morning. Quite late in the morning, once somebody thought about it. She never say Tony sleep after 8 o'clock, let alone later. And she was temporary his assistant.

She came closer to him and rocked his blanket covered shoulder, but there was no reaction. So she came closer to his ear and screamed in it: "Nick Fury is here."

Tony flinched, but there was not a lot of reaction, beside him opening his eyes and looking at her. He tired to glare, but there was no energy is them. "His designs are... somewhere. If he wants something else, he can go screw himself."

Tony's voice was hoarse and while he tried to sound normal, he did not move. Which was unusual for Tony with his early mornings and being full of energy from the first minute of being awake.

Natasha came closer and put his hand on his forehead. Tony tried to bat it away, but there was no energy or urgency in his movement.

"I am fine." Tony argued.

Natasha looked at him in a questionable way, but she did not contradict him. She just stood up. "So then you don't need my help at all?"

"Not at all."

Natasha rolled her eyes, then left the room, letting the Tony use her couch, for all she cared. But as she left, she looked up. If something would be really wrong, that JARVIS would have already called the doctor, or at lest Pepper, who would then decide, if the doctor is needed. Which means that whatever Tony had does not seems to have any danger of killing or permanently harm him. One good point that happened from all the palladium poising fiasco.

She did came into the kitchen, nodding to Bruce who was reading at the chair. He seems to be engrossed in what appear to be some famous Physic magazine, but hell if she knew if it really was. He still nodded back, but did not in any other way engage her.

She made herself waffles, making sure to make some extra, that she left next to the Bruce. It seems to be the norm, that whoever started to cook made food for everybody that was in the kitchen. And it was not a lot more work that simply making a food for only herself.

As she was waiting for her next waffle to finish, she looked at the water heater. She looked around, but as she did not drink tea on the regular basis, she had no idea, if there even was some.

"Do we even have some tea?" she asked, more herself than anybody else.

"Top shelf on the left." was Bruce answer, as he continued to read the article.

She thank him, as she looked at the shelf. There were a lot of different kinds of tea, and she looked around, looking for something herbal. But even herbal ones were multiple: Camille, peppermint, basil, rosemary, clover, linden and many more.

She took one of the peppermint variety, making the tea as she made and ate a last couple of waffles.

Bruce looked up, as he managed to smell the peppermint. "Peppermint tea? Can I get a cup of that?"

"I would have thought it would have too strong of a taste for you." Natasha laughed, as she poured some of that into a put and delivered it to Bruce.

He smelled it and took a sip. He then smiled at Natasha. "Got used to it. Heard it was good for lowering stress."

"I heard that as well." Natasha said, as she took the pot and two cups with her from the kitchen, while Bruce returned to reading.

Tony was sleeping again, when she arrived at the room, but she simply deposited the pot and poured bot cups with tea, putting straw in one of them. She then took the straw one and when and kicked Tony lightly.

He looked at her in defiling way, betting her to try and comment something on him being there. But she just took the cup and waived it.

"The sooner you get better, the sooner I can kick you out of my room." she said as an explanation.

Tony looked at the cup, but then raised himself a little, taking the cup from her hands and starting to sip it. "That thing is still to hot."

Natasha shuddered, as she took her own cup, sitting herself next to the couch, and taking the book from the table next to the couch, putting her tea down next to her. She then started reading, sipping the tea in a mean time.

Tony just looked at her, then put the cup on the table, getting ready for some more nap time.

# Two Fathers [Fiction]

The two boys were sitting on the bench, their back pressed against each other, supporting the weight of one another.

"I miss my dad. The only thing, that I know of him are remittances, that he keeps sending to us."

The other boy sighed.

"I wish my father was like that. We sometimes have nothing to eat, because he spent all the money on alcohol again."

They looked at each other. They smiled as they stood up.

"I guess it is bad either way. Better to just except."

The other one nodded, and they run into the distance.

# My Book Diary – D. Dravin: The Boy Wizard

The stage magic. The real magic. It is usually one or the other. But not in this case.

The main character in the book, Alan, is both. The stage magician and the real magician. Trained in the art of disappearing things and appearing things, and secretly trained in the art of levitation. But do not tell his teacher.

He accidentally burned down his school in the previous talent show, and decided to restore his reputation. Teaming up with the class thief called Tim, they prepare the act, that will blow the school away. While at the same time, Alan have to make sure, to not get discovered.

Written in the first point of view, as Alan would have written the story himself, it is a playful novel, that kept me sitting on the bus stop, when I was so interested, what happens next. Even if the plot is predictable, the feelings in the writing suck the person right in.

I would recommend this book to anybody, wanting to return to their younger times. I also find it appropriate for the younger children.

# My Book Diary – Seth Godin: We Are All Weird

What is normal and what is weird? In this book of the famous marketing blogger Seth Godin, we are taken on the journey of our society. From the time, when the mass media and mass production kept us in the normal, where the majority of the people was in the middle, to the times in the future, where we are going now.

He argues, that the weird is the new normal. As we get more and more advanced, we get weirder and weirder. Not because we want to stand out, but because we want to be accepted by our peers. People similar to us.

Illustrating his point with easy understandable examples and the writing style, that is both concise and vivid, Seth always makes me want to read the book from page 1 to the last page. And this book is no different.

Explaining the future of our society, being critical, mostly of the mass marketers, while he was not judgemental. His book clarified a couple of things for me, making me better understand people. But I believe, that for some of you, it might be an even bigger eye opener.

A great book of a great person. So to honour him, let's be weird in some way.