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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 228 | 2010-03-12 13:17:33 | 37.79 | |
| 84 | 2010-02-18 06:15:28 | 34.02 |