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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 215 | 2011-05-30 03:33:19 | 123.78 | 98% |
| 80 | 2011-05-06 22:46:21 | 106.43 | 94% |