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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 621 | 2009-03-15 11:45:36 | 52.62 | |
| 589 | 2009-03-15 09:35:36 | 46.84 |