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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3075 | 2020-11-20 09:41:05 | 83.38 | 97% |
| 1515 | 2020-09-04 20:04:19 | 83.28 | 98% |
| 1104 | 2020-08-24 21:44:11 | 73.71 | 96% |