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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 506 | 2008-09-27 05:56:24 | 113.06 | |
| 158 | 2008-09-15 01:44:35 | 97.65 |