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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 78 | 2011-08-17 14:48:07 | 116.35 | 98% |
| 14 | 2011-08-15 11:31:17 | 102.21 | 95% |