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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 920 | 2018-09-27 20:04:11 | 52.07 | 99% |
| 888 | 2018-09-25 20:27:07 | 47.42 | 96% |
| 337 | 2018-08-14 06:07:15 | 42.29 | 97% |