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 |
---|---|---|---|
5886 | 2017-12-07 19:40:32 | 107.32 | 99% |
5530 | 2017-02-21 00:55:33 | 108.20 | 95% |
4846 | 2017-01-24 20:00:35 | 107.42 | 98% |