Faces slide by in glowing shadows. Like snowbound ghosts that go up and down in epileptic shivers and negative radioactive slivers, in a landscape of endless dull glitter and a taste in my mouth so sweet, yet so bitter. And we exhaust ourselves trying to get there.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 730 | 2021-08-09 16:33:21 | 55.89 | 95% |
| 487 | 2021-07-26 15:21:16 | 52.04 | 94% |