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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 992 | 2010-09-09 23:59:57 | 75.73 | |
| 12 | 2010-07-14 15:00:35 | 56.32 |