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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2030 | 2014-04-13 17:50:12 | 60.58 | 96% |
| 283 | 2011-11-12 16:02:20 | 64.85 | 95% |