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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 160 | 2009-06-25 08:29:58 | 71.02 | |
| 24 | 2009-06-19 09:46:09 | 65.94 |