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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 267 | 2014-06-04 14:38:55 | 52.68 | 90% |
| 231 | 2014-06-03 13:04:46 | 50.52 | 92% |