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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1023 | 2011-05-11 15:20:40 | 36.97 | 93% |
| 423 | 2011-04-18 06:56:14 | 35.50 |