Hi guys,
Prepare for the second installment! If you haven't read the first chapter, go read it, or this will make no sense! Here's the link to chapter 1: viewtopic.php?t=62875
Chapter 2
“What would you like to do today?” Beth asked me as we left the house.
“Maybe we could visit Jacob’s bakery?”
“He’d like that,” she replied, smiling.
As I didn’t have wings yet, we had to walk into the city. Beth said she could transport us instantly, but I politely refused. I wasn’t quite ready for that yet. Walking gave my life (or death) a normal aspect. Beth and Jacob lived on the outskirts of the city, not far from Jacob’s shop. Heaven seemed to be a pretty normal city. Except that the ground was white and everyone had wings, of course. Also, the city noises were very controlled. They seemed to be at a lower volume than normal. Maybe the soft, white ground was soundproofed, too.
It took us less than ten minutes to reach Jacob’s shop. It looked pretty normal. A sign reading: “Bakery” hung over the door. We entered, and a little bell hung over the door jingled. Jacob came out of the back, his hands covered in flour. He was holding a small ball of dough and working it patiently between his strong fingers.
“Well, look who’s here! I was hoping you two would pay me a visit!”
“What are you making?” I asked curiously.
“This?” he held up the dough, “this is a pie crust. I don’t know what filling I’ll do today though. What do you think?”
“Peach!” I said enthusiastically, thinking of my grandmother’s peach pies.
“That sounds good!” he replied.
“Jacob can whip anything up in no time flat!” said Beth adoringly.
Jacob sauntered around the counter. With remarkable strength for an old man, he swept Beth up in his arms and treated her to an exuberant kiss. She turned bright red but looked quite pleased.
“Oh Jacob, now you’ve got flour on my dress!”
I didn’t point out that this didn’t matter as she could simply wish it away. We spent a long time at the bakery. Jacob showed me how to make thumbprint cookies and set me to work. I proved to be quite a poor baker. I was more interested in eating the delicious cookie dough than molding it into balls and pressing my finger into each cookie. I ended up ingesting more of the dough than I shaped. I don’t know how long we stayed there, but it didn’t matter. I had nothing better to do.
Finally Beth and I took our leave. I was sorry to leave the sweet smelling bakery, but I was also eager to see more of the city. We glided along the white streets. Yes, glided. I no longer walked. Don’t ask how, but I just kind of floated along where I wanted to go. Beth’s wings flapped as she glided, but I think that was more of a reflex than a necessity.
“Where do you want to go next?” asked Beth.
“I don’t know. Where should we go?”
“Well, at some point we should visit the library. God will be there to talk to you, and you can learn a bit about heaven.”
“That sounds good.” I followed Beth in the direction of the library. It was a huge building constructed of—guess what—stone and marble! We glided up the gleaming steps and through large wooden doors. Many people were in there already. Some were reading, some talking. The room seemed to absorb sound well, or those talking were being remarkably quiet, because the room was nearly silent.
Then I saw God. I had mixed emotions about seeing him again. I mean, the last time I talked to him he had insulted me, read my mind, stared at my naked body, and forced me to fall asleep. Still, something about his deep, smiling eyes made me strangely happy to see him standing there. He was leaning against a bookcase, not far from the door and he was looking straight at me.
“I’ll leave you two to talk,” said Beth, and she disappeared, just like that.
“Hi, Becky,” said God, coming over. His mouth was a line but his eyes smiled at me.
“Hi,” I replied grudgingly.
“Why don’t we put yesterday behind us?” he asked.
I thought that one over. He really expected me to forgive him. And somehow I felt ready to. I couldn’t believe myself, but I nodded.
“So I’m sure you have lots of questions. I’ll try my best to answer them.”
“Thanks,” I said gratefully, “First, am I going to wake up?” I was fully aware that in dreams characters always told you that it wasn’t a dream. Still, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to try.
“This isn’t a dream, Becky. The sooner you accept that the happier you’ll be.” I looked into his eyes. I could tell that he believed it. For lack of something to do, I picked up a book at random and examined it. It didn’t seem to be written in any language I’d ever encountered. I set it back down.
“So if this isn’t a dream, what is it?” I asked.
“Well, we are illusions here. That’s why you can float and disappear and things like that. But we can still influence earth like Beth does. That’s why we’re here. Of course, people like Jacob never really get into that sort of thing. But most angels do it all the time. Of course, I can’t. I’m not supposed to get too involved with humans…or angels for that matter. I’m supposed to be objective. Having affairs and all isn’t exactly part of the job description.”
How could he possibly have known that I thought he was beautiful? Then I remembered. He read minds. That little statement was a warning to me: stay away from god. I looked away from his wonderful dark eyes.
“What does it mean to be initiated?” I asked, trying to change the subject. He complied.
“Well, we check your record as Beth told you, and if it is clean you receive a pair of wings and become officially an angel. It’s quite an honor. Of course, you don’t have to take the wings, but I’ve never known anyone who didn’t.”
“What about you?” I asked.
“I created the angels. I am not one of them,” was his short reply. His eyes were sparking again, whether with passion, humor, or anger I couldn’t tell.
A silence fell between us. Beth broke it, coming back out with a tall pile of books hovering in front of her.
“Are you two done? Good. I need an opinion from you, Becky. Should I start memorizing the Old or the New Testament?”
Never having read either, I gave an uncertain shrug.
“Well, personally, I would say the Old,” said God, who I had forgotten was standing there.
I noticed that Beth looked at him with shining eyes before hurrying off to fetch the leather-bound tome. I waited patiently until she returned, the silence between God and me no longer uncomfortable. When Beth made her way back to us, God shook my hand and politely departed. We watched the door swing shut behind him.
Where do you want to go next, Becky?”
I shrugged.
“Why don’t we go to the park. I can introduce you to some friends.”
I nodded. Beth noticed my silence.
“You’re probably feeling pretty overwhelmed,” she said. I nodded again.
“Let’s take a walk in the park and then go home. You could use a rest, I’m sure.”
The walk in the park didn’t turn out as relaxing as Beth made it sound. I was constantly meeting Beth’s friends. They were all eager to meet a new person. Heaven had to get pretty boring what with it lasting forever. I was constantly shaking hands. What I found slightly unnerving was that everyone wanted to know how I died. I guess they were no longer in shock from their own deaths and were interested in mine. I explained it patiently, but every time it stung. They were mostly old, having died of old age, and I found myself longing for someone under fifty years old. The only person who I’d seen so far who fit that description was God. I pointed this out to Beth.
“Well, they don’t usually come here,” was her matter-of-fact answer.
“Who?”
“The ones who die young, they often either don’t believe or die of their own faults.”
“I don’t believe.”
“Didn’t,” she gently corrected, “and I don’t know why you are here. Some reason though, and you’ll find out eventually. Don’t question God. Remember, he knows all.”
I rolled my eyes at this. However, I felt the truth in Beth’s words as well. I was starting not to know what to think.
“What about God?” I asked, “Surely he’s not as young as he looks?”
“No, of course not,” she said, “But he appears that age to appeal to everyone. Us old folks like the idea that we’re led by a young, strong leader, and God appeals to the younger folks like yourself, too.”
It seemed as though everyone in heaven could read me with ease. I would have to work on that. But how did Beth know my feelings for God. She didn’t read minds, did she?
We spent the remainder of the day walking and talking. When we returned, I fell into a fitful sleep full of dreams of the car-crash and dying. I relived my own death scores of times that night.
Basically, I've noticed that you tend to write the name of the character speaking after the word verb in dialogue. For example, you use, said Beth/Jeff/Alice, very often. Remember, you can use the name before the verb! This isn't really a critique, it's more of a personal thing. To be honest, you should just ignore this. 
It's simply something that I thought I'd comment on. You don't necessarily need to change this, I just thought I'd mention that this stuck out for me. It's most likely me being paranoid though. 
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