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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1283 | 2012-05-02 00:43:58 | 30.58 | 92% |
| 1027 | 2012-04-27 04:18:17 | 34.21 | 96% |