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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2213 | 2018-02-09 21:43:17 | 111.41 | 98% |
| 1738 | 2017-10-01 20:09:54 | 107.03 | 97% |