Without a queen the locust swarm turned the ground to black. Descending like a shadowy tower on a fish's back and scattered the sticks who crawled like snakes in the sand as the red clay took the form of a lizard who rushed like a moth to the flame of my open hand.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1957 | 2020-11-10 19:02:40 | 102.37 | 98% |
| 954 | 2020-10-05 11:49:00 | 98.71 | 97% |