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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 132 | 2010-10-12 16:29:40 | 48.57 | |
| 27 | 2010-09-14 09:23:17 | 42.51 |