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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 4502 | 2024-06-26 12:34:57 | 67.82 | 96% |
| 4356 | 2024-05-04 12:25:38 | 62.50 | 95.4% |