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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 8861 | 2022-05-02 04:02:55 | 82.57 | 99% |
| 4706 | 2021-10-14 14:28:30 | 45.64 | 98% |
| 4306 | 2021-10-04 08:02:05 | 74.16 | 99% |
| 1395 | 2021-08-16 13:41:38 | 59.94 | 96% |