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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 617 | 2011-07-24 12:53:53 | 74.86 | 94% |
| 531 | 2011-07-21 13:20:31 | 77.75 | 97% |