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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 340 | 2013-07-05 02:23:01 | 54.47 | 95% |
| 115 | 2011-07-01 16:52:37 | 47.98 | 95% |