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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1891 | 2017-06-15 17:20:55 | 58.96 | 94% |
| 311 | 2016-12-15 01:30:56 | 64.32 | 92% |