The sky grew momentarily more brilliant, the sun sank lower, and at last the light came almost level, painting the flat meadows as with a brush dropping emeralds, and throwing from each tiny inequality, and each blade of grass, a separate shade of its own.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
841 | 2024-03-05 20:26:08 | 74.08 | 95.4% |