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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 940 | 2013-06-11 14:24:43 | 83.03 | 93% |
| 773 | 2013-05-10 11:04:05 | 83.62 | 93% |