What really counted was the possibility of escape, a leap of freedom, out of the implacable ritual, a wild run for it that would give whatever chance for hope there was. Of course, hope meant being cut down on some street corner, as you ran like mad, by a random bullet. But when I really thought it through, nothing was going to allow me such a luxury. Everything was against it; I would just be caught up in the machinery again.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2518 | 2018-01-24 20:06:58 | 153.12 | 99% |
| 2014 | 2017-07-18 06:40:04 | 123.63 | 97% |
| 1006 | 2017-06-22 02:39:49 | 131.50 | 98% |