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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 886 | 2011-08-28 21:28:42 | 132.53 | 100% |
| 540 | 2011-08-15 22:54:41 | 118.48 | 96% |