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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1199 | 2018-10-10 23:37:03 | 91.19 | 98% |
| 1075 | 2018-10-06 00:14:12 | 91.84 | 96% |