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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 22581 | 2018-01-20 01:33:35 | 86.36 | 95% |
| 21962 | 2018-01-12 21:40:44 | 116.97 | 98% |
| 21158 | 2018-01-07 15:33:54 | 110.24 | 97% |