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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 971 | 2012-08-27 09:35:45 | 93.00 | 96% |
| 576 | 2010-06-02 07:23:44 | 88.64 |