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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 169 | 2010-04-07 03:28:40 | 123.81 | |
| 134 | 2010-04-06 02:29:27 | 118.88 |