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 |
---|---|---|---|
5424 | 2022-08-23 10:56:48 | 137.09 | 98% |
3555 | 2022-01-09 09:26:34 | 155.28 | 100% |
3207 | 2021-12-05 09:02:21 | 148.47 | 98% |