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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 424 | 2009-11-06 05:35:45 | 71.20 | |
| 22 | 2009-05-10 09:27:47 | 39.93 |