I was stealing saltshakers again. Ten, sometimes twelve a night, shoving them in my pockets, hiding them up my sleeves, smuggling them out of bars and diners and anywhere else I could find them. In the morning, wherever I woke up, I was always covered in salt. I was cured meat. I had become beef jerky. Even as a small, small child, I knew it would one day come to this.
| Game | Time | WPM | Accuracy |
|---|---|---|---|
| 3432 | 2022-12-27 05:20:10 | 96.21 | 97% |
| 1921 | 2021-03-04 11:20:25 | 82.75 | 98% |
| 1740 | 2021-02-14 16:56:08 | 70.49 | 96% |