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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 9618 | 2021-07-16 07:58:31 | 85.89 | 96% |
| 8900 | 2021-05-31 16:12:32 | 74.03 | 95% |
| 7630 | 2021-05-03 14:00:28 | 93.07 | 95% |
| 6776 | 2021-04-20 07:55:02 | 94.71 | 98% |
| 1793 | 2021-01-03 16:46:26 | 75.75 | 96% |
| 1471 | 2020-12-30 12:05:34 | 81.95 | 95% |