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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 89 | 2009-05-03 22:41:30 | 57.34 | |
| 51 | 2009-04-20 18:44:06 | 56.19 |