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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 982 | 2020-07-08 23:21:53 | 115.81 | 98% |
| 837 | 2020-07-05 20:23:10 | 95.84 | 95% |
| 687 | 2020-06-29 14:58:02 | 101.27 | 96% |