It was 90 degrees along with 90% humidity—it might as well have been raining.
It was August.
Henry and his cousin were drenched in sweat from the stifling heat and their hard work in the haymow. Hay chaff stuck to their sweaty skin like salty sand at the beach—stinging like nettles. Sweat whipped off Henry’s nose and hair as he tossed the bales of hay.
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By Charles Buell