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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 136 | 2012-07-23 17:28:33 | 102.16 | 98% |
| 41 | 2012-07-20 14:26:13 | 80.58 | 88% |