It was a wicked, whimpering, winter plagued night. When my tongue grew wings, and took to flight. The thought had never crossed my mind before that moment. It's the truth so bent, it can't be broken.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 60854 | 2020-02-17 14:32:58 | 81.63 | 99% |