Text race history for asj (asj_benc)

Back to text analysis page

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
74 2023-06-04 16:15:00 104.50 97%