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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 210 | 2009-05-01 03:06:59 | 52.44 | |
| 196 | 2009-04-30 03:59:43 | 47.86 |