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 |
---|---|---|---|
263 | 2010-04-14 01:58:46 | 89.83 | |
176 | 2010-03-30 00:36:56 | 89.27 |