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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 41 | 2010-04-10 11:27:47 | 98.26 | |
| 9 | 2010-04-06 16:00:09 | 97.08 |