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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 323 | 2016-04-21 17:28:36 | 79.72 | 90% |
| 119 | 2016-03-16 17:13:59 | 69.79 | 83% |