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 |
|---|---|---|---|
| 26806 | 2022-10-20 11:21:37 | 95.99 | 98% |
| 22087 | 2021-12-05 13:56:07 | 101.55 | 98% |
| 20823 | 2021-07-23 01:48:30 | 90.04 | 97% |
| 16177 | 2020-04-15 02:45:58 | 92.94 | 96% |
| 14025 | 2019-09-17 21:00:01 | 96.29 | 98% |
| 5256 | 2018-10-21 07:47:11 | 79.84 | 98% |
| 3321 | 2018-09-16 01:44:17 | 67.27 | 98% |