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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 430 | 2011-04-19 17:31:42 | 87.22 | |
| 416 | 2011-04-15 17:53:19 | 81.74 |