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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1965 | 2021-02-25 11:21:40 | 61.90 | 95.5% |