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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 287 | 2016-05-30 21:14:08 | 124.79 | 99% |
| 95 | 2016-05-16 08:41:07 | 125.41 | 97% |