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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 119 | 2009-10-27 21:05:19 | 87.08 | |
| 90 | 2009-10-27 17:25:35 | 90.75 |