The days right after Christmas are always a strange time, but this year took the cake.  George Prinse wasn't a nervous person, but a dead body on the front lawn would rattle anyone.  Never mind that it was only dead for a few minutes.  He stood out in the snow by himself after everyone else had gone back inside, trying to figure out what was going to happen next.
    George and his brother rarely spoke.  The only reason he invited him over tonight, was out of some false sense of Christmas good will.  They hadn't even eaten dinner yet when he started up his same old garbage, and George's already short fuse ignited.  Before anyone could calm them down, the two were red-faced, screaming at each other out on the front lawn.  Two blazing tempers unfazed by the freezing temperatures.
    As the argument raged, showing no signs of abating, George poked his finger into the center of his brother's chest.  Three. Hard. Pokes.  It happened so fast, that George was still shouting as his brother slipped on the frozen ground, and fell flat on his back.  Boom.  Dead.
    George's jaw gaped open as he stared down at his dead twin.  All he could think about was how strange it was to look down and see himself lying dead in the snow.  He was still stunned when several other dinner guests rushed out of the house.  His neighbor Bill was immediately on his knees next to the body.  He was a paramedic with the fire department.
    Women were crying and screaming, men were shouting, dogs were barking, but George's head was in a bubble.  It was as if someone had ripped a hole in the fabric of reality, and he was staring into the silent void, detached from the chaos.
    He was just about to take a deep breath to regain his senses, when he heard a raspy desperate gasp for air.  His brother was suddenly breathing heavily, and everyone fell silent.  Half a moment later, he was shoving people out of his way, and getting in his truck, to speed away.
    The bitter cold forced the guests back inside to continue their confused squabbling, but George watched the red tail lights disappear down the street.  He turned to the house just as the last guest shut the door.  He said, to no one in particular, "I killed him." 

The End

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