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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 168 | 2009-09-05 10:55:13 | 47.90 | |
| 21 | 2009-08-29 06:50:41 | 50.62 |