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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1753 | 2019-02-14 10:48:53 | 100.04 | 98% |
| 934 | 2018-11-10 22:44:54 | 84.10 | 96% |
| 388 | 2018-10-14 12:54:13 | 89.03 | 98% |