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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 382 | 2011-06-23 09:07:14 | 55.15 | 97% |
| 23 | 2011-06-07 10:09:50 | 38.05 | 98% |