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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 331 | 2011-02-07 03:18:58 | 44.29 | |
| 130 | 2011-01-26 01:03:21 | 38.18 |