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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 7598 | 2022-05-23 04:17:58 | 125.15 | 99% |
| 5819 | 2019-06-05 03:50:11 | 115.33 | 99% |
| 5780 | 2019-06-03 21:21:31 | 119.18 | 99% |
| 1339 | 2017-06-20 02:30:34 | 91.20 | 98% |
| 893 | 2016-02-26 00:48:03 | 85.44 | 97% |
| 433 | 2015-06-29 02:32:27 | 74.21 | 96% |
| 268 | 2015-06-05 01:12:37 | 72.17 | 96% |
| 127 | 2015-05-27 00:55:52 | 68.07 | 94% |