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 |
---|---|---|---|
1928 | 2024-04-04 01:31:43 | 81.56 | 95.5% |