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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 660 | 2016-07-06 09:03:57 | 35.17 | 87% |
| 407 | 2016-06-28 11:24:50 | 32.57 | 80% |