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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1290 | 2015-07-18 16:08:07 | 123.62 | 98% |
| 1207 | 2015-07-16 17:49:15 | 113.10 | 97% |