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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1072 | 2012-03-09 22:29:50 | 98.38 | 96% |
| 322 | 2012-02-03 03:27:48 | 91.55 | 95% |