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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8964 | 2017-12-24 12:35:06 | 150.50 | 99% |
| 8752 | 2017-12-22 18:04:44 | 64.43 | 95% |