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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 655 | 2009-05-03 16:23:46 | 60.50 | |
| 347 | 2009-04-04 15:41:18 | 50.63 |