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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 396 | 2013-06-21 11:25:46 | 74.23 | 96% |
| 119 | 2013-06-03 09:23:41 | 69.76 | 96% |