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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 847 | 2010-11-03 15:03:35 | 71.13 | |
| 202 | 2008-09-21 01:00:19 | 56.33 |