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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 245 | 2009-10-17 17:52:09 | 34.38 | |
| 209 | 2009-10-17 13:52:23 | 31.60 |