Faces slide by in glowing shadows. Like snowbound ghosts that go up and down in epileptic shivers and negative radioactive slivers, in a landscape of endless dull glitter and a taste in my mouth so sweet, yet so bitter. And we exhaust ourselves trying to get there.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 21450 | 2021-08-22 06:26:46 | 99.54 | 97% |
| 20681 | 2021-07-18 09:47:28 | 103.49 | 98% |