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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 190 | 2011-12-12 00:51:10 | 56.81 | 90% |
| 166 | 2011-12-06 01:08:19 | 56.88 | 91% |