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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 121 | 2010-04-11 02:13:04 | 40.51 | |
| 40 | 2009-05-16 16:45:21 | 38.71 |