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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 294 | 2012-02-11 07:31:33 | 75.52 | 96% |
| 176 | 2011-12-27 16:01:03 | 56.60 | 95% |