But not yams, I had no problem concerning them and I would eat them whenever and wherever I took the notion. Continue on the yam level and life would be sweet, though somewhat yellowish. Yet the freedom to eat yams on the street was far less than I had expected upon coming to the city. An unpleasant taste bloomed in my mouth now as I bit the end of the yam and threw it into the street; it had been frost-bitten.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 9 | 2019-02-02 23:41:36 | 136.99 | 98% |