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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 39 | 2009-04-04 04:58:44 | 50.25 | |
| 19 | 2009-03-30 16:51:19 | 39.98 |