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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 243 | 2010-05-11 01:50:03 | 63.82 | |
| 187 | 2009-12-02 00:22:58 | 79.28 |