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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 149 | 2008-10-11 10:09:14 | 45.59 | |
| 57 | 2008-10-10 10:18:03 | 46.53 |