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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 231 | 2013-04-28 21:53:24 | 70.29 | 89% |
| 230 | 2013-04-28 21:47:32 | 60.41 | 87% |