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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 610 | 2011-05-03 23:36:08 | 101.03 | 99% |
| 69 | 2011-03-11 05:22:48 | 84.07 |