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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2734 | 2019-12-03 19:30:35 | 106.26 | 96.5% |
| 342 | 2019-07-20 20:14:22 | 124.20 | 98.8% |