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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 281 | 2010-06-23 10:45:43 | 74.45 | |
| 226 | 2010-04-14 12:00:59 | 64.21 |