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 |
---|---|---|---|
675 | 2009-10-03 19:03:27 | 80.29 | |
218 | 2009-10-03 10:14:51 | 99.99 |