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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 430 | 2015-02-11 20:09:08 | 118.73 | 96% |
| 343 | 2015-02-02 21:08:09 | 97.80 | 91% |