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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3137 | 2017-12-13 13:00:10 | 122.83 | 100% |
| 15 | 2017-02-17 04:47:38 | 115.64 | 98% |