I wonder if I can write this history, or if on every page there will be some sneaking show of a bitterness I thought long dead. I think myself cured of all spite, but when I touch pen to paper, the hurt of a boy bleeds out with the sea-spawned ink, until I suspect each carefully formed black letter scabs over some ancient scarlet wound.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3733 | 2024-04-22 23:09:34 | 66.15 | 97.6% |
| 3311 | 2024-04-05 11:29:34 | 63.03 | 95.4% |
| 3239 | 2024-04-03 00:09:04 | 74.04 | 97.4% |