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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2131 | 2018-05-27 14:10:51 | 79.81 | 96% |
| 1933 | 2018-05-24 12:48:04 | 93.03 | 97% |