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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1005 | 2010-03-02 14:18:31 | 50.17 | |
| 485 | 2010-02-13 13:20:37 | 52.83 |