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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1355 | 2019-08-22 20:55:24 | 89.03 | 95% |
| 1074 | 2019-08-14 10:22:36 | 105.01 | 97% |
| 836 | 2019-08-08 22:35:23 | 97.96 | 97% |