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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3369 | 2014-10-12 11:23:31 | 156.87 | 95% |
| 2173 | 2014-06-16 15:09:06 | 143.84 | 90% |