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 |
---|---|---|---|
519 | 2011-09-09 17:44:49 | 35.06 | 92% |
411 | 2011-08-08 23:46:03 | 28.10 | 92% |