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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 91 | 2008-09-04 11:56:27 | 126.43 | |
| 18 | 2008-08-23 06:53:14 | 110.92 |