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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 827 | 2011-06-03 21:34:40 | 96.13 | 96% |
| 74 | 2011-05-10 14:38:54 | 80.26 | 95% |