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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 91 | 2011-06-10 08:18:13 | 62.08 | 95% |
| 48 | 2010-09-18 09:20:46 | 61.62 |