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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 989 | 2010-03-28 22:37:48 | 79.86 | |
| 969 | 2010-02-20 23:45:20 | 84.40 |