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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 972 | 2016-07-08 15:58:54 | 105.15 | 94% |
| 202 | 2016-06-15 06:10:13 | 111.80 | 96% |