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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 583 | 2011-07-13 12:56:18 | 64.68 | 97% |
| 523 | 2011-07-12 13:04:45 | 37.58 | 95% |
| 384 | 2011-07-07 05:33:44 | 57.18 | 92% |