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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1263 | 2019-03-05 10:33:46 | 114.53 | 98% |
| 873 | 2017-12-28 07:07:07 | 110.10 | 98% |
| 161 | 2017-10-25 10:15:46 | 110.55 | 98% |