Text race history for Erik (erikengerd)

Back to text analysis page

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
163 2021-06-03 21:08:39 74.53 97%
136 2021-06-01 12:14:45 84.69 97%