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 |
---|---|---|---|
548 | 2009-06-14 13:41:04 | 79.73 | |
364 | 2009-06-12 10:35:58 | 70.48 | |
11 | 2009-06-09 12:10:32 | 56.45 |