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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 5597 | 2023-04-30 20:16:57 | 74.21 | 97% |
| 4262 | 2023-01-25 20:51:01 | 75.57 | 97% |
| 3364 | 2022-12-21 22:58:40 | 77.69 | 97% |
| 47 | 2022-04-27 20:01:47 | 65.19 | 98% |