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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 689 | 2016-09-10 15:43:37 | 43.56 | 85% |
| 318 | 2016-08-05 14:24:47 | 40.33 | 88% |