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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 9872 | 2022-02-16 04:52:12 | 86.30 | 98% |
| 3288 | 2021-02-14 09:30:55 | 51.69 | 96.4% |
| 2116 | 2021-02-09 06:34:00 | 50.69 | 95% |