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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1244 | 2011-08-21 02:58:48 | 54.28 | 92% |
| 906 | 2011-08-15 03:52:18 | 56.41 | 94% |