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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1506 | 2018-12-31 21:33:03 | 73.81 | 99% |
| 1336 | 2018-12-29 18:49:42 | 82.02 | 98% |