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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 287 | 2013-07-19 15:19:59 | 65.68 | 96% |
| 185 | 2013-07-17 07:46:18 | 60.20 | 96% |