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This quote was added by user263053
El viento azotaba los altos del valle, arrojando su rencor a las fustigadas hojas de los sauces. Sobre su cabeza el cielo se tornaba de una tonalidad ocre, despidiendo lágrimas que arrastraban el sudor que emergía de su rostro descompuesto; su respiración entrecortada y jadeante acompasaba el sonido de la tupida hierba reseca aplastada sin miramientos bajo sus desnudos pies.

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Name WPM Accuracy
yogurt 147.85 97.4%
user508247 116.63 98.4%
juanfz 108.49 91.5%
user535474 108.12 97.2%
epzilon 107.97 92.2%
seagull 107.44 97.2%
yorabuh 104.06 99.0%
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ael44pnn 103.13 94.0%
chamil 102.64 100%

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