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 |
---|---|---|---|
487 | 2017-10-09 07:17:53 | 55.70 | 96% |