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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1081 | 2011-02-02 17:04:14 | 106.41 | |
| 981 | 2011-01-24 17:09:58 | 95.40 |