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 |
---|---|---|---|
1764 | 2024-02-28 21:51:08 | 100.63 | 97.6% |