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 |
---|---|---|---|
5843 | 2020-09-25 05:54:33 | 81.97 | 97% |
3379 | 2019-10-25 04:11:03 | 72.49 | 95% |
2342 | 2019-09-30 03:13:55 | 80.39 | 97% |