Title: Valgfritt

Text: The sky was a cold iron-grey, like the underside of a shield. A sharp breeze lifted the hems of skirts and rattled the leaves on the immature trees; a spiteful, chill wind that sought out your weakest places, the nape of your neck and your knees, and which denied you the comfort of dreaming, of retreating a little from reality. Hver avsnitt vil være en test.

Save test: Bruk dette hvis du vil dele denne skrivetesten (kun for godkjente brukere).