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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1176 | 2019-05-25 22:40:18 | 105.88 | 98% |
| 1089 | 2019-03-27 21:06:38 | 103.88 | 98% |