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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 469 | 2011-12-16 10:25:18 | 44.94 | 94% |
| 335 | 2011-08-12 06:45:10 | 58.84 | 99% |