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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 316 | 2012-01-30 08:24:51 | 79.29 | 93% |
| 227 | 2012-01-26 02:39:57 | 86.42 | 95% |