Exerpt from my novel wherein I am paid per word:

Jeremiah Engel Johnson Jr. dabbed at the sweat on his brow with the old, blue handkerchief using his right hand, since he was sweating a real lot. He replaced the worn-out handkerchief in his shirt pocket and resumed his work in the field, which was a farm. Farming his farm was what Jeremiah did all day long, since he was a farmer and that's what farmers do: farm their farms. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his wife Mary Ellen Elizabeth Johnson, whom he had married, walking slowly closer to him carrying a large pitcher of cold water.

"What's in the pitcher?" he called out loudly. "Is it cold water?" He hoped it was, and that the water was cold.

"It's cold water, honey! You looked like you were sweating a lot! So I thought you might like some water! And it's ice cold!" She carefully poured the cold water into a tall glass and handed it lovingly to Jeremiah, who took it when she handed it to him.

"Mm," he said as he drank the cold water quickly. "That water's cold."