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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 710 | 2014-04-05 03:33:26 | 125.52 | 94% |
| 555 | 2014-04-02 23:05:43 | 127.28 | 97% |