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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 12505 | 2023-04-04 17:54:33 | 77.95 | 97% |
| 11962 | 2023-03-28 14:09:11 | 65.41 | 95% |
| 10494 | 2023-03-10 04:00:22 | 60.43 | 96% |
| 9895 | 2023-03-01 22:17:53 | 59.84 | 96% |
| 6259 | 2022-12-31 17:09:31 | 62.08 | 96% |
| 5192 | 2022-12-15 17:33:49 | 63.36 | 95% |
| 2894 | 2022-11-21 00:11:29 | 60.27 | 97% |