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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 6751 | 2021-10-13 08:37:10 | 98.09 | 98% |
| 6724 | 2021-10-10 14:37:39 | 111.43 | 99% |
| 1110 | 2017-06-22 15:49:02 | 83.04 | 97% |