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 |
---|---|---|---|
401 | 2012-03-12 08:41:22 | 58.43 | 88% |
136 | 2011-03-14 06:14:13 | 65.65 |