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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1402 | 2011-09-26 16:59:15 | 75.84 | 97% |
| 1383 | 2011-09-23 18:08:09 | 67.62 | 91% |