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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1387 | 2019-01-13 17:59:49 | 215.19 | 100% |
| 1139 | 2018-10-15 20:34:51 | 181.61 | 99% |