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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 695 | 2016-03-27 10:59:27 | 68.81 | 98% |
| 619 | 2016-03-11 14:11:57 | 53.87 | 90% |