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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 325 | 2012-06-09 02:11:22 | 50.35 | 100% |
| 299 | 2012-06-07 02:43:55 | 49.81 | 100% |