It's the first of April, 1999.

Today is George's birthday.

Today, he turned twenty-one. Fred didn't.

Even as George turns twenty-one, -two, -three, -four.

Fred will still be twenty and thus he will remain.

George: thirty, forty, fifty.

Fred: twenty, twenty, twenty.

Their birthday is on April Fools.

Their mother hadn't known she was having twins.

Fred had come first.

"You have one healthy baby boy," the Mediwitch told Molly as she handed Fred over.

The Mediwitch was shocked when George came instead of the placenta.

"April Fools! You have two healthy baby boys and if their birth is any indicator, these two will be pranksters if ever you've seen."

And they were. For two decades they were, as in birth, pranking together.

Its 1999 and the twin is twinless.

Nobody to say "April Fools!"

No reason to say "April Fools!"

Nobody to say "There are two!"

No reason to say "There are two!"

Sometimes George sees poetry about breakups. George hopes nobody else has a reason to read it the way he now reads it. He hopes nobody else sees death in those sappy words.