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 |
---|---|---|---|
953 | 2009-08-26 10:12:37 | 84.46 | |
487 | 2009-08-16 10:20:10 | 78.22 |