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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1443 | 2011-05-01 20:27:51 | 69.47 | |
| 408 | 2011-04-17 06:26:55 | 45.82 |