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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1150 | 2011-08-04 14:28:07 | 96.46 | 98% |
| 900 | 2011-06-24 04:55:59 | 83.44 | 96% |