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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 2653 | 2022-10-09 17:37:42 | 77.84 | 99% |
| 2033 | 2022-07-19 12:22:54 | 63.07 | 97% |
| 977 | 2022-06-04 16:21:33 | 64.42 | 96% |