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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1638 | 2019-03-20 17:29:51 | 90.75 | 98% |
| 1046 | 2018-12-30 13:53:00 | 76.16 | 97% |
| 705 | 2018-12-09 11:52:12 | 77.87 | 97% |