Faces slide by in glowing shadows. Like snowbound ghosts that go up and down in epileptic shivers and negative radioactive slivers, in a landscape of endless dull glitter and a taste in my mouth so sweet, yet so bitter. And we exhaust ourselves trying to get there.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
309 | 2021-07-11 19:09:45 | 80.14 | 96% |