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 |
---|---|---|---|
963 | 2011-04-09 08:49:42 | 97.34 | |
885 | 2011-04-02 15:42:25 | 93.38 |