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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 81 | 2010-06-30 17:02:57 | 73.55 | |
| 36 | 2010-06-28 16:42:26 | 60.66 |