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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8744 | 2025-07-06 20:41:55 | 120.69 | 97% |
| 5912 | 2024-06-30 12:42:03 | 112.99 | 96% |