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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3000 | 2016-07-25 18:39:16 | 57.74 | 88% |
| 1159 | 2016-02-19 15:22:05 | 58.86 | 88% |