I drew the blankets over my head and tried to think of Christmas. But the grey face still followed me. It murmured, and I understood that it desired to confess something. I felt my soul receding into some pleasant and vicious region; and there again I found it waiting for me.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 111 | 2011-06-19 14:58:47 | 67.70 | 94% |
| 14 | 2011-06-04 18:33:57 | 53.70 | 95% |