Balloons in Winter C2 /P

I found the writing much better in this chapter. The dialogue was of about the same calibur as last chapter, so I think it was what you had to say in between that really improved.

Yes, at the beginning, you will have to make sure the reader understands that it is a different character perspective for this chapter. Plus the beginning is kind of weak. I think perhaps it's the structure rather than the content.

The tension in this chapter is perfect, and the emotional value of this story was really taken up to a much greater level. I find myself feeling sorry for your characters, and even Laura, which even as a side character she has reader empathy. I feel a possible tragedy coming on here. Honestly though, it is difficult to elicit feelings of pity for characters, but you pull it off well here.

The ending I found very well done, like everyone else has commented.

Your dialogue could use some tightening up, but this:

“I wouldn’t stand so close to me,” Donny said. “God’s got too many things against me for it to be safe.”

Just then there was another flash of light, a blast of thunder, and I looked at Donny. It was the oddest thing—at the instant of the thunderbolt it seemed as if I were looking at an angel who’d just flashed into being, black hair slicked down by the rain, soaked through to the skin.

“God’s not such a great shot.” I laughed nervously.

“You wait.” Donny grinned. “He’s got a lot of ammunition.”

The only problem I had with this...between Chapter One and Two is some of the one-word dialogue was somewhat blunt. And for me, it made it hard to follow at some points. However, it's nearly 3 in the morning here so heck, what can I say?
Anyway, I love the plot, here...all the characters are pretty realistic, and it seems as though this story reflects or life, or at least the life of someone that you know very well. I love how you write about things you know.
Great job, though.
Hurry up and write Chapter Tree.

KayJ already got to mostly everything, but this was awesome, Brad. Interesting and entertaining read. Damn good ending too.

Incandescence wrote:He wears jeans, a white T-shirt, black paratrooper boots and a leather jacket.

Okay, as much as I loved it, I think the beginning may need some work. I had to re-read it before I realised who was doing the talking. It's not a big problem at the moment, but I think some of it needs re-wording so that it's slightly less confusing.

This is how it begins: me and Laura sitting on a picnic bench, laughing over lukewarm coffee and seeing, out of our separate eyes, this boy in a leather jacket with black hair flamed skyward. I fixed the boy in the angle of my gaze. I don’t know his name. I know nothing about him. He pulls out a cigarette – a slight boy, seventeen or eighteen. He half-waves at Laura and nods at me. Off to his left, the fountain is dry. The trees have died. The broken concrete underfoot yields up the dust and coolness of an afternoon whose temperature dips to twenty. Laura leaned over to me and whispered “I told you!” and then sprung to her feet to hug him.

“Thank you so much for coming. Donny, this is Chris. Chris, Donny.”

I smile, “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. Nice umbrella.”

I wince. This boy has thin arms, liquid black hair that shoots up in all directions. He throws his cigarette to the ground. There are five billion people in the world. Nobody matters very much. He wears jeans, a white T-shirt, black paratrooper boots and a leather jacket. His profile is perfect.

We go to Trolley’s, a quiet café on Main Street that serves food with too much sugar. Donny suggested we go there.

“Oh God, Donny, I am so glad you’re here,” Laura tells him, “otherwise I wouldn’t have known what to order.”

I shift around in the booth.

“I’m majoring in Chemical Engineering, so that. And my girlfriend, Janet.”

“Ooooh how is Janet?” Laura cooed.

My heart sunk. I bit my lip and stared out the window.

to say, He doesn’t understand these things, but we couldn’t really think he would.

known each other Since When

Just then there was another flash of light, a blast of thunder, and I looked at Donny. It was the oddest thing—at the instant of the thunderbolt it seemed as if I were looking at an angel who’d just flashed into being, black hair slicked down by the rain, soaked through to the skin.

“God’s not such a great shot.” I laughed nervously.

“You wait.” Donny grinned. “He’s got a lot of ammunition.”