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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 319 | 2009-01-28 10:25:13 | 41.25 | |
| 259 | 2008-12-22 11:58:58 | 40.08 |