Text Details
 
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I still think about the letter you asked me to write. It nags at me, even though you're gone and there's no one to give it to anymore. Sometimes I work on it in my head, trying to map out the story you asked me to tell, about everything that happened this past fall and winter. It's all still there, like a movie I can watch when I want to. Which is never.
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This text has been typed
more than
1000 times:
| Avg. speed: |
89 WPM |
| Avg. accuracy: |
97.0% |
Top 10 scores for this text
|
User |
Speed |
Accuracy |
Points |
Place |
Date |
Options |
| 1 |
arxanas |
233 WPM |
99.0%
|
284
|
1/2 |
July 20, 2018
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| 2 |
kreufr |
213 WPM |
96.0%
|
259
|
1/3 |
Sept. 10, 2019
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| 3 |
arenasnow |
210 WPM |
100.0%
|
255
|
1/2 |
May 21, 2019
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| 4 |
arc_sec |
205 WPM |
99.0%
|
250
|
1/1 |
Feb. 15, 2019
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| 5 |
plover_learner |
197 WPM |
94.0%
|
240
|
1/4 |
March 18, 2019
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| 6 |
mako640 |
196 WPM |
100.0%
|
238
|
1/3 |
March 19, 2019
|
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| 7 |
arenasnow2 |
193 WPM |
99.0%
|
234
|
1/3 |
July 27, 2017
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| 8 |
florentine |
189 WPM |
92.0%
|
N/A
|
1/3 |
Feb. 9, 2017
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| 9 |
rosewolf |
189 WPM |
99.0%
|
230
|
1/2 |
June 9, 2019
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| 10 |
uberkelium |
189 WPM |
99.0%
|
230
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2/5 |
Nov. 16, 2017
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(book)
by Rebecca Stead