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 |
---|---|---|---|
219 | 2009-04-15 11:58:21 | 51.69 | |
100 | 2009-03-25 16:35:15 | 51.32 |