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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1045 | 2010-09-02 16:32:59 | 31.05 | |
| 195 | 2009-11-04 21:27:49 | 28.40 |