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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1048 | 2009-10-12 14:55:38 | 40.43 | |
| 269 | 2009-04-29 16:08:08 | 52.87 |