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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 86 | 2010-06-13 00:55:06 | 88.24 | |
| 51 | 2010-02-24 04:42:48 | 67.51 |