Title: वैकल्पिक

Text: Next week, I will be thirty. The sand is blowing into my mouth, my hair, the center crevice of my notebook, and the sea is choppy and gray. Beyond it, I can see the cottage, a speck on the far shore. I keep thinking I can see the virus blooming on the horizon like a sunrise. I realize the world will continue to turn, even with no people on it. Maybe it will go a little faster. प्रत्येक पराग्राफले परीक्षण हुनेछ।

Save test: यदि तपाईं यो टाइपिङ परीक्षणलाई साझा गर्न चाहानुहुन्छ भने यो प्रयोग गर्नुहोस् (केवल प्रमाणीकृत प्रयोगकर्ताहरूको लागि)।