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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 162 | 2013-02-10 20:14:39 | 76.80 | 85% |
| 79 | 2013-02-03 23:48:23 | 82.57 | 87% |