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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 42419 | 2023-12-31 01:25:27 | 89.76 | 95% |
| 38838 | 2023-07-15 14:12:02 | 91.08 | 96% |
| 38528 | 2023-07-08 12:58:56 | 104.11 | 95% |
| 26226 | 2021-08-17 16:38:31 | 84.28 | 96% |
| 24309 | 2021-05-04 07:43:28 | 88.83 | 96% |
| 23015 | 2021-03-21 14:30:33 | 91.13 | 95% |
| 21312 | 2020-12-13 16:38:38 | 97.12 | 97% |
| 4174 | 2019-03-11 22:50:22 | 77.57 | 95% |