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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1058 | 2009-01-24 17:37:06 | 139.48 | |
| 445 | 2009-01-08 18:15:09 | 136.35 |