The withered leaves collect at my feet and the wind begins to moan. Memory, all alone in the moonlight. I can dream of the old days, life was beautiful then. I remember the time I knew what happiness was. Let the memory live again.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1271 | 2017-12-21 21:00:31 | 60.62 | 97% |
| 513 | 2017-09-06 19:14:23 | 56.18 | 98% |
| 493 | 2017-09-02 00:15:08 | 53.70 | 96% |