There is a loneliness that can be rocked. Arms crossed, knees drawn up, holding, holding on, this motion, unlike a ship's, smooths and contains the rocker. It's an inside kind--wrapped tight like skin. Then there is the loneliness that roams. No rocking can hold it down. It is alive. On its own. A dry and spreading thing that makes the sound of one's own feet going seem to come from a far-off place.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1011603 | 2025-04-03 09:59:22 | 184.69 | 99.5% |
| 1001144 | 2024-01-30 20:11:33 | 143.12 | 96.5% |