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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 884 | 2011-10-13 15:22:40 | 47.12 | 99% |
| 314 | 2011-06-30 14:32:30 | 45.16 | 96% |
| 168 | 2011-06-24 13:42:42 | 40.22 | 95% |