What really counted was the possibility of escape, a leap of freedom, out of the implacable ritual, a wild run for it that would give whatever chance for hope there was. Of course, hope meant being cut down on some street corner, as you ran like mad, by a random bullet. But when I really thought it through, nothing was going to allow me such a luxury. Everything was against it; I would just be caught up in the machinery again.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 19387 | 2023-08-17 20:55:12 | 160.79 | 100% |
| 11897 | 2020-03-07 06:59:14 | 149.27 | 99% |
| 2909 | 2018-08-14 20:57:29 | 110.22 | 97% |