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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1152 | 2018-08-26 23:52:22 | 105.02 | 99% |
| 327 | 2018-08-10 15:17:10 | 98.93 | 97% |