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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 805 | 2018-04-19 07:12:43 | 83.49 | 97% |
| 530 | 2018-04-11 07:54:33 | 71.08 | 96% |
| 218 | 2018-03-20 05:44:14 | 82.61 | 96% |