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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 22495 | 2022-06-27 02:28:06 | 220.59 | 100% |
| 11729 | 2021-02-14 17:56:41 | 163.07 | 98.3% |
| 5890 | 2020-10-14 02:50:05 | 151.21 | 97% |
| 3523 | 2020-08-27 05:33:19 | 156.35 | 99% |