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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1354 | 2016-03-15 13:35:50 | 48.00 | 93% |
| 1067 | 2014-04-16 15:16:50 | 36.87 | 88% |