by Marie Hoy-Kenny Rob Dean As usual, Chloe saw it before me. The shimmery white helium balloon caught on one of the oak tree branches, its tangled ribbon stopping its struggle to get away. Chloe hoisted me up to unravel it and it popped on the rosebush as I pulled it down. “Fuck Jill, you always ruin everything, ” Chloe said. A square of pink paper fluttered out of the balloon’s belly like a consolation prize and she gripped it between her thin fingers. She held it close to