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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1960 | 2020-03-04 15:52:14 | 112.85 | 99% |
| 10 | 2016-03-14 12:40:04 | 132.51 | 91% |