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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 706 | 2011-08-09 01:10:43 | 59.96 | 93% |
| 310 | 2011-07-11 17:28:16 | 59.76 | 94% |