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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2003 | 2018-11-23 13:01:07 | 68.30 | 96% |
| 1673 | 2018-11-10 09:15:18 | 55.84 | 93% |
| 1331 | 2018-10-26 06:51:33 | 64.93 | 97% |