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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 550 | 2015-03-22 13:57:39 | 59.58 | 87% |
| 306 | 2015-02-11 23:05:08 | 59.32 | 92% |