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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 41 | 2009-04-11 15:02:34 | 43.68 | |
| 34 | 2009-04-11 06:12:00 | 105.10 |