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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1341 | 2016-03-08 10:20:23 | 45.33 | 90% |
| 1006 | 2016-02-14 12:02:09 | 44.84 | 96% |