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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1035 | 2025-06-27 15:26:40 | 105.16 | 98% |
| 692 | 2025-06-16 22:43:38 | 84.11 | 95% |