Hotter than the seventh of July

The 8th was breathtaking. You needed a water bottle to walk a mile or so. I got back up the hill by picturing the iced chocolate I was going to talk the cafe into making for me. It was fabulous: nonfat milk, chocolate syrup, ice and a dollop of whipped cream on top, which coated the ice cubes in a murky but delicious way. Our nonegenarian was so hot she didn't know it, and her caretaker wisely used some cold wet compresses on her neck and forehead. We could think of nothing better for dinner than sushi, and that was delectable.