What really counted was the possibility of escape, a leap of freedom, out of the implacable ritual, a wild run for it that would give whatever chance for hope there was. Of course, hope meant being cut down on some street corner, as you ran like mad, by a random bullet. But when I really thought it through, nothing was going to allow me such a luxury. Everything was against it; I would just be caught up in the machinery again.
Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
---|---|---|---|
17982 | 2018-02-19 12:34:27 | 58.23 | 97% |
13672 | 2017-08-09 03:22:22 | 81.79 | 100% |
12747 | 2017-06-23 05:10:02 | 63.47 | 98% |
12328 | 2017-05-25 12:33:26 | 65.19 | 94% |
11754 | 2017-05-23 07:35:51 | 66.98 | 94% |
10292 | 2017-05-20 06:19:54 | 71.64 | 98% |
7832 | 2017-05-02 11:05:00 | 67.28 | 95% |
6880 | 2017-02-26 10:51:25 | 60.03 | 96% |
1557 | 2017-01-21 09:16:14 | 48.51 | 98% |