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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 426 | 2009-11-17 22:10:45 | 88.29 | |
| 334 | 2009-11-17 16:57:52 | 80.35 |