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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 196 | 2009-08-20 10:38:49 | 45.20 | |
| 42 | 2009-05-20 10:18:23 | 42.61 |