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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 10163 | 2021-08-12 08:37:51 | 62.35 | 97% |
| 9551 | 2021-08-06 11:29:35 | 51.63 | 95% |
| 7906 | 2021-07-20 11:43:51 | 66.68 | 99% |