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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 12884 | 2022-08-27 20:48:19 | 123.38 | 97% |
| 12548 | 2022-08-18 05:05:20 | 130.29 | 98% |
| 12347 | 2022-08-13 15:37:08 | 132.08 | 97% |
| 7036 | 2021-11-04 22:44:13 | 135.93 | 99% |
| 5647 | 2021-10-28 15:09:19 | 132.88 | 98% |
| 5070 | 2021-10-22 15:06:28 | 131.20 | 98% |
| 1549 | 2018-07-19 17:00:39 | 111.78 | 98% |