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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 82 | 2012-09-11 19:16:19 | 41.15 | 95% |
| 46 | 2012-09-08 21:05:01 | 38.82 | 97% |