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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1724 | 2019-02-25 09:14:49 | 87.74 | 99% |
| 621 | 2019-02-16 04:22:31 | 91.29 | 98% |