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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 876 | 2019-01-22 02:34:38 | 166.73 | 99% |
| 751 | 2019-01-21 02:42:28 | 170.18 | 100% |