I wonder if I can write this history, or if on every page there will be some sneaking show of a bitterness I thought long dead. I think myself cured of all spite, but when I touch pen to paper, the hurt of a boy bleeds out with the sea-spawned ink, until I suspect each carefully formed black letter scabs over some ancient scarlet wound.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 734 | 2024-10-03 15:16:57 | 43.68 | 95% |
| 646 | 2024-09-30 13:34:39 | 47.91 | 92.6% |
| 393 | 2024-09-15 02:44:52 | 54.90 | 96.6% |