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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 932 | 2011-08-30 22:28:07 | 75.15 | 92% |
| 712 | 2011-08-25 20:24:07 | 80.43 | 97% |