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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1084 | 2016-11-16 09:34:25 | 91.03 | 96% |
| 499 | 2016-07-21 05:00:47 | 88.67 | 98% |