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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 222 | 2009-06-12 10:30:01 | 96.40 | |
| 95 | 2008-10-09 11:50:15 | 102.88 |