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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 19808 | 2025-07-14 04:52:37 | 118.93 | 99% |
| 19064 | 2024-07-12 12:47:24 | 105.34 | 99.3% |