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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 220 | 2009-08-20 16:43:05 | 54.74 | |
| 12 | 2009-06-17 16:22:46 | 41.50 |