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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 665 | 2012-08-04 17:41:10 | 99.30 | 96% |
| 602 | 2012-08-01 21:09:09 | 100.60 | 96% |
| 596 | 2012-08-01 21:01:28 | 97.58 | 97% |