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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 338 | 2011-03-03 10:21:19 | 81.60 | |
| 279 | 2011-01-25 09:25:10 | 75.91 |