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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 341 | 2012-02-17 07:59:24 | 51.02 | 84% |
| 31 | 2011-05-31 16:40:04 | 47.71 | 94% |