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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 637 | 2009-05-05 14:23:17 | 127.51 | |
| 269 | 2009-03-14 21:35:37 | 119.97 |