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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 223 | 2011-07-23 07:38:59 | 45.13 | 92% |
| 185 | 2011-07-18 01:56:52 | 57.26 | 95% |