Eight Hundred and Forty Nine Days Ago

Eight hundred and forty nine days ago, my Dad took me Leopold's on Broughton. We sat in our normal, metal, rocket ship chairs, talked about the number of shops we passed, how many cars had their windows rolled down, and about the universe. Just like every Thursday evening, I had Honey Almond & Butter cream and he had... a heart attack, a heart attack, a heart attack.