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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 46 | 2011-02-08 20:45:18 | 131.94 | |
| 4 | 2009-04-09 20:35:33 | 133.27 |