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 |
---|---|---|---|
848 | 2011-03-10 20:54:44 | 86.97 | |
491 | 2011-03-03 21:19:48 | 82.90 |